Something to Avenge
by Mad Scientist Sidekick
Summary: The 74th annual Hunger Games are about to begin, and this year promises plenty of drama, with District 12's first volunteer, Katniss Everdeen, victor and tech mogul Howard Stark's son, Anthony, the little brother of the deadliest tribute ever, Clint Barton, the enigmatic Drusa Romanov, and the defiant Thresh all going head to head. What chance does shy village healer Spruce stand?
1. Chapter 1 Reaping Day (Spruce)

Something to Avenge

Chapter 1

Reaping Day

I knew perfectly well what day it was. My next to last reaping – well, hopefully, anyway. I knew I was risking a treason charge if I stayed, but I did anyway.

But severed veins didn't care what day it was – they could be inconsiderate that way.

They put the man, Elmer West, on my table, dripping blood everywhere. That's how I know it's a vein – an artery would be spurting, assuming of course the workmen could even make it to my house if an artery had been severed. Everyone leaves but his foreman – they're going to watch the reaping.

The first thing I do is cut the heavy flannel away to expose the wound. Two centimeters more, and it would have been an artery – the brachial artery. Thankfully, the vein isn't completely severed – there's no need to clamp it off and risk the arm. I apply pressure to staunch the bleeding. It was close but not in the end dangerous. "What happened Elmer?" I ask the bleeding man. He's a heavy lumberjack … like everyone in District 7. My answer is a profanity-filled rant against lazy newbies failing to call timber with enough warning for the others to get out of the way in an orderly manner. As it is, he was injured because he and the others on his crew took off in a panic to avoid the falling tree, and Elmer got knicked by someone's saw … frankly I'm just glad none of them got crushed. When someone's under a tree, there's usually nothing I can do for them besides dull the pain unless they were _extremely_ fortunate. Maybe if I were a real doctor, I could do more than stitch and set bones, but that's a pipe dream and always will be. "I'll stitch it up … it's gonna be swollen and sensitive to pressure for a while. I'll give you something for the pain. Watch it close – this kind of thing tends to get infected." We lose more men to lockjaw fever* and other infections than actual wounds. And of course the hunger.

"Thanks Doctor," Elmer tells me genuinely despite the pain I know he's still in. No matter how many times I hear it, I get a little embarrassed to hear the respectful address from men twice my age. Ever since my mother died, I'm the only healer in this part of the district – and I was trained by the best. The merchants and officials pay me in real money or valuables like books, but most of my patients are lumberjacks and carpenters. They pay me in food or clothing – I always feel guilty taking it because I know they don't have any to spare. But they don't want me in the forests or even the lumberyards, unless I've run there to tend someone. They don't want me in the arena either – they made sure I haven't had to take a tessara since my mother died. But my name is still in twelve times – thirteen times next year.

"Connie – will you hold this towel while I go to the back?" I ask the burly woman who could easily be mistaken for a man if you didn't know her who had helped carry him in and stayed by her man. She nods and takes the towel, pressing exactly the way I tell her too, and I head to the back room, hoping I won't wake him up.

I walk past my father, curled up asleep on his bed, to the shelves full of medicines I mix myself. Most of my time goes not to seeing patients but to finding the herbs I need and preparing them properly. I would keep them out front where I see patients but there's no room and I can't risk someone knocking them over and costing precious time. Dad stirs but doesn't wake as I stand on tip toes to reach the top shelf. He smells – I haven't had time to make the meager effort I usually do to get him cleaned up in days because of the influenza outbreak. I promise him I'll get to it today even though he doesn't hear me, and I hear the Other Guy growling in the back of my mind like he does every time I'm around him. I pull three jars from the shelves.

I pour the medicines into little oil ration jars for Elmer. Patients almost always bring the jars back to me, and enough folks give me theirs when they're done to more than replace the ones that don't make it back. In addition to the painkillers, I'll give Elmer medicine for the potential infection too … but I'll tell him it's for the pain too. He won't take it otherwise.

I step past my father once again, trying not to shudder at the sight and smell of him on my way back to the living room. "You'd better hurry," Connie says worriedly, looking at the clock on the living room wall – the most valuable thing I own, a present from one of the merchants after I helped his son survive the whooping cough.

"I have time," I insist, and retrieve my good stitching needle and thread from a drawer in the table. "I won't have time to clean up though … it's going to be a nightmare cleaning up after."

"I'll clean it for ya Sprucey," she says affectionately. "Just try not to get drawn again." Some of the parents with sick children acted like the world had ended when my name came up in the preliminary drawing.

"I'll try," I say with a smile as I go to work. I work as quickly as I can and still do a good job – it's not Elmer's fault he almost got killed by a tree on Reaping Day. All though his crew did cut it close – they were working rather late for everyone's "favorite holiday."

"You don't really have to clean up if …"  
"Oh shut up and stitch."

"Thanks. My cleaning supplies are right here," I say, and point with my foot to the spot under the table where I stow such things. "Think of it as advance pay next time Willow gets sick." Connie has a little girl with bad lungs – I sit up with her several nights a month, especially in the autumn, doing what little I can and wishing I could convince Blight Turner to buy her one of the nebulizers I've read about with his victor money. I've tried several times.

"Not on your life," she protests. She always gives me bread – good bakery bread. I guess I can expect more the next time Willow starts wheezing.

While I finish stitching up Elmer's arm, I explain to him how much of each medicine to take and at what time of day, and how long he should be off work. I tell him to drink plenty of fluids (not alcohol) and eat hearty if he can to replace what's been lost from his blood – and finding water is easy enough but the food, less so. He's already pale from the blood loss but pales even more when I tell him how long he'll be off work – his family can't afford it. I worry about it too – most people manage to squirrel away emergency rations for a few days, so he's not worried about the short term so much as the fact his entire safety net will be gone. Hopefully he'll have time to rebuild it before he has need of it again.

"Spruce, go – you're going to miss the train," Connie says pointedly as I sew the last stitch. I look at the time, hoping I have at least long enough to wash the blood from my skin and put on the suit I laid out – no such luck. I curse under my breath as I nod my thanks to her and run out the door of the cabin.

Thankfully the Reaping is being held close this year and so the train hasn't left yet. Even so, I just barely caught it – it's started moving and I have to take a flying leap onto one of the open trailers full of kids going to the Reaping or else risk being charged with treason. Most of them are strangers to me, and of course they have no idea who I am and understandably look terrified as I hop on board, soaked in blood. There's two or three other kids from surrounding villages, however, and they immediately worry about who got hurt and how bad it was. I am immediately besieged by questions. "Elmer West – it wasn't bad. He just needed a lot of stitches and he's going to take some time to heal up," I explain quickly. I see the kids from other villages immediately relax – they know I'm not an axe murderer.

There are one hundred of us all told. Two of us will hear their names for a second time today.

I realize I'm going to be on TV covered in blood. Maybe I'll be one of the "interesting sights" they talk about on the recaps – I can imagine Caesar Flickerman and other commentators pointing me out in a crowd and wondering what the hell happened that day. I wonder how far off the speculation will be – I'm sure none of them will guess I'm a healer, though some may guess I rendered aid, considering it's mostly on my arms. And even though they'll know better, they'll probably pretend they think I'm a murderer or there was a fight (probably for ridiculously romanticized reasons) before the Reaping, because it'll make a better story.

I try to sleep on the way to the Reaping – I catch sleep where I can. Just as torn veins don't care that it's Reaping Day, the whooping cough and measles can be very inconsiderate about normal working hours. I'm not too worried anything will happen while I'm gone – even the ones without kids stop to watch the Reaping, either in person or on television.

I can't quite sleep – the blood is sticky and uncomfortable and the ride is not exactly smooth – so instead I wonder if I can get hold of Johanna Mason after the ceremony. She doesn't live in the mostly empty victors' village, but rather in a cabin all by herself off in the forests – I'm not sure if she hates Blight, Marty, and Axel or people in general. I've heard the latter, but I've also heard that unlike Blight she can be badgered into making necessary purchases for those in District 7 who can't afford it in the right circumstances. I wonder if the blood will be a help or a hindrance in that regard.

We make it into Cloudcroft village high in the mountains, and there's an inordinate amount of fanfare. They announce our arrival over loud outdoor speakers, even though the grim-faced locals already know we're here – they look at us with a mix of pity, resignation, and relief it's not their kids.

We file out of the flat bed and to the square with as much dignity as possible considering most of us are shaking with fear. Even the older ones – only the small districts like 12 have a drawing for everyone at once. Most of us have never had our names called in the preliminaries before – we're closer to the Arena than we've ever been. We give them a drop of blood so they can confirm we were here – I wonder if anyone's ever actually tried to run. Probably.

They separate the boys and girls for some arbitrary reason I don't understand, and put the younger ones out front. I hate it when it's one of them – a couple of years ago I made the mistake of mentioning I might volunteer if it's a twelve-year-old who gets called in a bar full of lumberjacks who depend on me if they get hurt or their kids get sick. Needless to say, it was not a mistake I repeated. Since I'm seventeen, I stand almost in the back, looking at rows and rows of younger kids whose lives are on the line. They've set up a stage for the event, and even though it was probably made in just a couple of days, it looks professional and beautiful. The lumber district wouldn't have anything less.

One of the television men from the Capitol spots me and motions to the camera operator – I can practically feel it zooming in on me. I fight the urge to run and hide – even if not for the blood I'm underdressed and I hate being the center of attention – and instead make the most of my fifteen minutes of fame. I muster my most mischievous smile and wave at the camera. The operator grins in response – I wonder if the citizens of the Capitol are watching live.

The mayor of Cloudcroft gets up to speak, and, thankfully, the cameraman turns the camera to face him. He seems excited – the Reaping is held in a different village each year and this is probably his only chance to shine on national television. We all stand in our neat little rows, trying to feign interest but desperately wanting to get the ceremony over with. Johanna Mason is sitting on stage, looking as bitter as she always does, along with Blight, Marty, and Axel. Axel was the previous victor before Blight, and he's severely addicted to morphling. He never looks like he's all there – I never asked him for anything for my patients. Marty's getting on in years, but that didn't stop him from running me off his property swinging a ballpeen hammer the one and only time I tried to ask him for donations. Blight sees me and rolls his eyes – he was rather aggressive the last time he told me no, though I suppose no one will ever top Marty in that regard, and I'm now apparently banned from the victors' village. I try to get Johanna's attention subtly – but she's deliberately avoiding looking at us and I'm not going to be the idiot who can't be still during the Reaping.

The speeches seem to drag on forever, but the next part is easy to listen to. Our very own Capitol representative, Cassius Finkelman, steps up to the cages that hold our names, all smiles and unnecessary flourishes of the hands. His hair and skin are purple this year. "Before we begin, do we have any volunteers?" No one answers. After a very long, awkward silence, he sticks a perfectly manicured hand into the girls' cage first and I hold my breath, selfishly hoping it's not a girl I know. "Let's have a nice round of applause for our lady tribute, Juniper New!" Finkelman says all too enthusiastically, and we clap because he told us to do so even though we're all looking to Juniper in pity. She's not anyone I know, but I feel bad anyway. She's not one of the littlest ones, but she's not very old either – I'd guess she's fourteen or fifteen. She puts on a brave face and steps forward, and no one calls to take her place. I hear a young girl in the crowd burst into tears – doubtless a niece or a little sister, and I clench my fists in my pockets while the Other Guy murmurs in nonsensical rage. I shudder with the simple act of keeping myself in place and my face as blank as I can keep it.

With Juniper on stage, Finkelman reaches into the boys' cage. I brace myself, telling myself there's only a one in fifty chance I'll hear my name again.** Finkelman takes entirely too long to find a name and pull it out. He reads it slowly, and it takes me a minute to comprehend the significance.

"Spruce Banner," he repeats, because he got no response.

I feel blood rush to my face and extremities – my body's telling me to run. I force myself to stay in place while I catch my breath. The kids who know me turn to face me, and the others' eyes follow theirs. I force my feet to move in the direction of the stage. I'm hyper aware of everything around me – the looks on the faces of the other kids, the sound of the wind rustling the pine needles and the loose clothes of the gathered crowd, the ruckus from the crowd as some of the folks from my village and those around it try to explain that I'm needed here and convince Finkelman to draw again, the expressions on the faces of the important people on stage. Johanna bites her lip, studying me, while Marty looks at me as though I'm already dead (and he's not sad about it), Blight actually looks a little concerned – he knows I'm a healer, not a killer – and Axel looks as far gone as ever. The mayor gives me an encouraging nod – as though he understands – and Finkelman still has that damn smirk. I want to wipe it off his face – the Other Guy is growling at me to do so but I ignore him. Finkelman ignores the crowd's pleading for me, of course. I manage a feeble smile as I climb on stage beside Juniper and shake hands with Finkelman. "Ladies and gentleman, the tributes of District 7!" he announces loudly, and the gathered lumberjacks and carpenters manage surprisingly genuine applause for us as the national anthem starts. I know they're desperately hoping one of us will come back to them – I know because that's what I always hoped. It came true three years ago – Johanna came back to us. I look at Juniper, and I hope she'll be as lucky.

It's only when the Peacekeepers escort us offstage that I let the fear sink in. I start to shake all over and I'm sick to my stomach. They take us into the Hall of Justice and separate us – they're going to give us time to say goodbye. Of course Dad's still at home, and even if they could wake him it's going to take at least an hour to get here, and by that time I'll be on a train to the Capitol. But that doesn't mean I'm alone in the little room where they put me – about half a dozen of my patients and their parents are outside the door, waiting. I motion them in, and they all come in at once. They ignore the dried blood and hug me – I haven't had this many arms around me since my mother's funeral. Lucy Foreman, a motherly carpenter, laments that she doesn't have time to bring me a change of clothes, and several of them second that. They suggest someone runs to a merchant to try to grab me some, but no one wants to leave, and they know the Capitol will give me new clothes anyway. They promise me I'm coming back, they tell me to be brave, they tell me how much I'm needed. I don't answer them – I can't. I know that this is the last time I'll ever see them. I didn't even tell Dad good bye … and in spite of everything I wish I had, and I worry about who's going to take care of him. I voice this last concern, and several men and women promise at once to take care of him "until I come home." Some of them offer more specific advice. Get an axe, if I can. Make sure I have food. Stay out of the fighting if I can, but don't be afraid to fight if I have to. I'm short but broad shouldered and strong – I can use that. Eat as much as I can stand before the games begin. I nod and try to take all of it in, but all the while I'm screaming inside because I know I've seen my last summer, and I'm already worried about who's going to take my place as healer, if anyone. They see how afraid I am and they try to be brave for me, but there's a heaviness in the air in this room, and I know they know it too. Finally, as the Peacekeepers tell me it's time to go, I manage a weak smile and an even weaker promise. "If I win … I'll get to be a real doctor. But I'll still charge the same." I hear murmurs of agreement as they practically pull me away.

The train goes through town, and since it's within walking distance, even by Capitol standards, they march us out through the square. Juniper and I climb onto the train, along with Marty (I hope I'm not stuck with him just because I'm a boy), Johanna, and Finkelman. We all force smiles and wave goodbye to the cameras. As soon as the compartment door closes, Juniper bursts into tears and Finkelman loses his smile. "Whose blood is on your shirt?"  
"Elmer West," I answer instinctively, and then remember that Finkelman probably has no idea who any of us are. "There was an accident this morning – he needed compression and thirty-two stitches …"  
"What's that got to do with you?" he demands impatiently, and that Capitol accent is already wearing on my nerves. Maybe by the end I'll be so sick of it I'll go gallantly to my death just for the sweet escape.

"He's the only healer in his village – the only one for half a dozen villages around in fact," Johanna says from behind him. I'm surprised she knows who I am. Finkelman breaks out in a grin.

"Well, I never would have guessed. That might be useful in the Arena, huh?" he says cheerfully. I give another involuntary shudder, but he doesn't notice. "Well, I guess you'll want to get changed," he says, and points me to my cart.

My train cart is nicer than my cabin … yet I already miss home. I feel lost in the huge bedroom with a mahogany dresser and the enormous bed covered in sheets made from nicer material than anything I've ever worn, and a huge screen on one side of the room. I turn the enormous television on – I want to see the last of the Reapings. Showering and changing can wait.

I turn it on just in time to catch the end of District 10. Their tributes are a tall, brown-headed boy with blue eyes who looks about seventeen and a tiny girl who probably just barely turned twelve with long jet black hair and fairly dark skin and big brown eyes. There's some drama because a slightly older dark headed boy – he looks about fourteen – demands to know if there's an official rule against sending two boys as tributes, but declines to take the older boy's place. I don't blame him – if I had a sister, I wouldn't want to risk having to kill her or let her kill me either.

District 11 is next. It's another large district, and more densely populated than 7. I hear they have not just a preliminary drawing, but several rounds of them. I can't imagine what a nightmare it is to hear your name called five or six times. The chosen tributes are a tiny girl with enormous brown eyes and a huge boy of about seventeen or even eighteen. I think of myself and Juniper, and decide that fate seems to be favoring that pairing of tributes this year. I wonder if the other boys are like me – already deciding they'd rather die than have to kill the little girl they're paired with. If it comes down to that, I'll let Juniper kill me. It'll be easier for me to make it look like an accident than it will be for Thresh, the big dark boy from 11. The girl steps on stage, brave and stoic despite her tender age. The boy looks at her gravely as he takes his place beside her. As the anthem plays, he takes her hand, provoking tears from the audience, both at the Capitol and at home.

District 12 is always sad to watch, no matter the outcome. The whole district piles into the square, so the crowd there is larger. I watch in horror as another twelve-year-old girl is called. I dread watching the recaps – I'm half afraid that when I see the other districts I'll learn Juniper's the oldest girl in the games this year. But then, something remarkable happens.

An older girl, probably sixteen or seventeen, runs forward, shouting that she volunteers. I know a long time before District Twelve's Capitol liaison announces her name that she's the little girl's older sister or aunt – they look alike, and a saint or a suicide might volunteer for a stranger but the desperation says they're related. The little girl, understandably, sobs as her sister climbs on stage until an older boy, a brother or uncle or maybe a brother-in-law, comes and retrieves her, trying to calm her. The 12 liaison calls the boy's name and, thankfully, he isn't twelve.

I stand there a while longer, watching the mindless drivel from the commentators, before I realize that I need to hurry and clean up and change – they'll start the recaps soon. I open the huge chest of drawers and find none of the clothes to my liking at first. I open another drawer and find a flannel shirt and dark denim pants – someone from 7 picked these out for us. I don't expect them to fit well, but it'll be better than the torn, bloodstained shirt and pants I'm wearing now.

I step into the bathroom and find a shower. I understand the concept – some cabins in 7 have showers, but the water's usually out and I've never actually used one. I usually wash myself in a metal tub, or more often just run a wet washcloth over my skin. Thankfully the shower's easy enough to figure out – I'd rather wear blood all the way to the Capitol than ask anyone on this train for help with it.

The feeling of the hot water running over my skin is literally the best feeling I've ever had in my life. I find soap – wonderful smelling, soft, actual soap – and proceed to get cleaner than I have ever been in my life. Maybe it's worth it to die just to get a shower for a couple of weeks of training and pageantry.

As soon as I have the thought, I know it's not.

I step out of the shower and dry myself on the soft, fluffy towels – I didn't realize towels could be this fluffy – and step back into my bedroom to get the clothes I picked. I find Johanna sitting on the bed. "Hi," I say awkwardly as I reach for the underpants first. She looks me up and down and I feel blood rush to my cheeks as I throw the underwear on. I see other people naked all the time … I'm not sure I like other people seeing me naked.

"You clean up nicely," she says flatly as I hop into pants as fast as humanly possible.

"Thanks," I mumble as I pull the shirt on as fast as I can and start buttoning it. She chuckles.

"For your sake, I hope you don't end up naked or nearly naked at the opening ceremonies."

"I'll get a leaf at least," I say with a shrug, trying to brush off the awkwardness. I notice she has food, and I'm suddenly aware of how hungry I am.

"I brought it to you because Cassius will just yell at you for your 'deplorable' table manners. Marty's eating with the girl." I'm not sure if I'm relieved or not that Johanna's my mentor. I take a seat next to Johanna and pick up the tray of food. I bite into it, trying to be as polite as I can since apparently that's an issue.

"What makes you think I'd get yelled at?" I ask between bites of the best meat I've ever had. She chuckles again.

"In the Capitol they have four different kinds of every utensil." I'm eating with just one fork, using it both to cut and pick up pieces of food, like I always have. When I have a fork, anyway. So is she, so I guess she never cared to learn. I don't think I would either. "Maybe he's softened though … he had to hear 'horror' stories from Effie Trinket about the kids from 12 eating with their hands." Considering how starved we are in the outlying districts, they should be glad we don't eat like dogs. Capitol people have strange values.

"So … what do you want me to do?" I ask, going straight for the topic at hand.

"Not die," she says. No, orders. At that moment, I want to survive no matter what it takes – mostly because I'm afraid Johanna will find me in whatever afterlife exists (if any) if I don't. I'm about to ask for more detailed instructions when the recap starts.

District 1 gives us the usual beautiful Careers. I wonder if they disqualify the plain or homely ones from volunteering. District 2 gives us a massive, vicious looking boy and a beautiful redheaded girl, surprisingly young for a District 2 tribute. Or, I assume – she looks younger than most of the tributes from that district, yet older than all the sixteen-year-old girls I know. I've long figured out that the kids from the Capitol and 1, 2, and 4 look about two years older than the kids from any other district. Between the beauties from 1 and 2 and the girl from 12, the chances we're not all going to be naked at opening ceremonies are rapidly diminishing. The girl from District 3 is thankfully older than the girls from 10 and 11, but not by much. They move on to the boy's drawing, and the nation gets a surprise. Before the Capitol liaison can draw a boy's name, a handsome, obviously well fed boy steps forward to volunteer. He could easily be mistaken for a tribute from 1 or 2. When they call his name, I know exactly who he is. Anthony Stark, the son of one of the most famous victors in Panem. I'm so busy being bewildered about his motives that I almost don't notice the way Johanna tenses up beside me. I realize she probably knows him – the victors all know each other. But she doesn't say anything so I don't comment either. I shudder to see another twelve-year-old – this one a boy – from District 5. It's sad that you can spot the District 6 morphling addicts even on TV – but it's certainly a much more serene crowd than any other district. The boy and girl from District 6 are both tiny, but there's no stir of outrage or fear for them. I hope they have mentors who aren't addicts or at least aren't so far gone they can't help them.

And then, of course, we get to District 7. Seeing it on TV, I realize exactly how bad the blood looked. Sure enough, the speculation is intense. "Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone the true story about the blood. You understand?" Johanna asks.

"Of course," I answer quickly.

"But don't act like you killed someone either. Just make it something mysterious everyone wants to know about."

"Right. Keep them interested." By now they're on to 8. They're both older – the boy's probably seventeen or eighteen and the girl's about sixteen.

"Did you ever work on trees or were you just trained as a healer all your life?"  
"I cut trees until my mother died. I was fifteen."

"Good. There's always axes in the arena. They won't be like the ones you've used – these are made to kill and no other reason. But the general principal's the same once you get used to the different balance." I nod, but shudder at the thought of intentionally using an axe on a person. She notices and slaps the back of my head. "You can't afford to be squeamish, if you want to survive. They need you at home – think about that." I nod obediently, and force myself to keep eating even though I'm suddenly not hungry any more.

"Do you know how to swim?"  
"No." She sighs.

"Just hope it's not an ocean then."

"If I do die …" She smacks me again. "I just want to get this out there. In case it's an ocean," I say quickly.

"What?"  
"Will you get a nebulizer for Willow Lawson from Muleshoe Village?" I quickly shut up because she looks at me like she wants to kill me.

"Survive, and you can get it for her yourself." I nod.

"When they interview me should I mention …"  
"How much you're needed at home? Don't. The people in the Capitol could not care less about a bunch of smelly lumberjacks and carpenters who are short a healer. The only people who care already know – and there's not much they're going to be able to do. Even if they collect every coin in the district, once you factor in the gift tax, they won't be able to send you anything more than some bread after a few days."

"So how do I make them like me?"

"Say the nebulizer's for your cousin. Make it personal. And yes, if you die, which you'd better not, I'll get one for her. Whatever the hell it is."

"It's a machine that …" I shut up because I can tell she really doesn't care at the moment.

And now they're showing the highlights from 10 – the little girl, Brandy, closes her eyes for a bit and takes a deep breath, then walks to the stage on shaky legs while her brother watches in horror. She stands on stage while they call the boy – Clint Barton. Clint looks at the little girl next to him and bites his lip but doesn't acknowledge her. Then the drama starts and I'm back to where I began, but I'm quiet because I know Johanna's watching all this for the first time. "They've got a lot of little ones this year," she comments softly. She's only nineteen – she was a year younger than me in the arena.

"Just wait," I say. She hasn't seen Rue or the little girl who was almost the tribute from 12. Her reaction as she sees these things unfold is mostly cold, but she bites her lip and I know she doesn't like it.

"I know … I know you want me to win. But I don't think I can kill any of these little kids …"

"You say that now," she snaps. "When it's either you or them … that'll change." I think to myself I don't want it to, and that's possibly the only thing I'm more afraid of than dying. But I don't say this out loud because I'm beginning to understand why people find Johanna intimidating. "So you can swing an axe, and you've got a better chance of sewing yourself up than anyone else if you're hurt. Anything else we can work with?"  
"Well I … I think I can live off the land pretty well, if the plants are anything I'm familiar with."

"It might be the arctic, or an ocean, or a desert. Don't bank on that."

"I've read about some other places in …" She gives me the meanest glare yet, and I think mentioning reading was a huge mistake.

"You've read about it," she repeats in a low, dangerous voice.

"Okay that was stupid, I'm sorry. I know reading about it in a book won't help much. But it's all I've got. I … I got paid in books, sometimes."

"Can you actually build stuff, the way Anthony can?" I didn't know Anthony made stuff, so I don't know what to say. "If it's not something you can apply directly, it doesn't count."

"I can probably trade fixing other people up for food or to make alliances," I suggest feebly, expecting to get glared at more. Instead she nods. And then I see her get a look of recognition.

"Actually – you're going to tell all of Panem exactly how you got the blood on your shirt." I'm really confused now.

"But you said …"  
"I know what I said. That's because I was thinking you could convince the others you're dangerous. I realize now that's about as likely as getting it to rain gold." I'm only a little insulted. I know what she did at her games – she acted like a dumb, scared little girl … and the Careers ignored her while they went after other, "stronger" targets first. And when it was down to just her and them, she was able to ambush several Careers one by one and take them down. I know that she wants me to do something along those lines … and maybe I can. I think it'll be easier to sink an axe into the huge boy from 2 after watching him kill several others than it would be to kill Juniper or the little kids from other districts, or even the girl who volunteered for her sister.

For the first time, I have a little hope. It worked for Johanna.

I find myself out of steak and mashed potatoes. "We've got two weeks to figure out more. There's more in the kitchen cart – three carts that way – if you're still hungry." I am. "There'll be sugary stuff too – don't eat too much of that unless you really enjoy throwing up." I nod as I get up to go in search of the sugary things I shouldn't eat too much of.

I make my way to the kitchen car. Like every other car, it's got beautiful, thick carpeting. It also has several large, mahogany tables. I recognize my district's work when I see it. Juniper's already there, eating a huge plateful of the aforementioned sugary things. She sees me and her eyes widen. She picks up her plate and leaves. I watch her leave, wondering what I said or did to offend her. "I told her not to get too attached. One or both of you will be dead in three weeks. One of you may be responsible for the death of the other. It's best to accept that now," Marty says from his table, where he's sipping wine. I assume by now Cassius has gone to his own cart. I nod, not knowing what else I can do.

"Do you mind if I stay?" I ask timidly. I'm having flashbacks to the time he chased me off his property.

"You never minded what I mind before," Marty snaps. I take that as a yes.

A server quickly emerges from somewhere in the next cart – the actual kitchen, I assume, and asks if I want anything, saving me from having to talk to Marty for a little bit. "I … Another steak, I guess, and some more of the potatoes. And … Johanna said there were sweet things, but I've never really …"  
"I'll let you try several things. How do you want the steak?"

"Um … I'm sorry but what does that mean?"  
"Do you want it cooked all the way through or a little red?" I've dealt with enough intestinal worms to say,

"Not red at all," very adamantly. Marty chuckles – I'm surprised he has a sense of humor. Apparently he sympathizes – I imagine everyone from the Districts, or at least the outliers, would always choose to have theirs well done.

"Would you like anything to drink?"  
"Um … whatever kind of wine he's having," I say quickly.

"I'll have that right out," the server tells me politely.

I take a seat at a table far away from Marty and look out the window. I see the countryside unrolling before me … and I wish I could enjoy it more, without the fear of impending death.

"Something wrong with your eyes, boy?" Marty asks loudly, and I almost jump out of my skin.

"I'm nearsighted …" I admit, realizing I was probably squinting to see more detail on the distant hills and such.

"Well … better tell Johanna so she can badger Finkelman into getting you some glasses before the Games."

"They would do that?"  
"They do – my district partner got fitted for some," he says, and his mind is clearly wondering back to his Games.

"It's really not a big deal, I can see fine without them," I insist, knowing Marty gets even meaner than usual when someone asks about his Games.

"I'd be perfectly happy to let you die under that assumption … but I imagine Johanna will feel differently," he says sharply, and I don't know what to say.

Thankfully I don't have to say anything – the server brings me some bread and a plate of vegetables to hold me over until the steak is ready. "Thanks," I say and dig into it hungrily despite the meal I've already had – I haven't had anything to eat in almost two days. I'll probably make myself sick but I remember what the folks at home told me before I left. If nothing else, I want to taste everything I can before I die. I taste the wine he brought me and it's sour and I don't like it much – but I keep drinking anyway. It feels odd on my throat – and before long it makes my tongue, throat, and stomach tingle and I can feel the muscles in my shoulders relaxing. I've never had alcohol before – I've grown up seeing my dad turn into even more of a monster than usual whenever he drinks, and I've always been afraid to. But that doesn't matter any more.

By the time I finish the second steak, I've also had several glasses of wine and I'm very, very drunk. The server brings me the plate of sweets he promised, and they're all the best things I've ever had in my life. Somehow I manage not to ask for any more, even though I'm sure my judgment is somewhere in District 11 at this point. Marty drinks with me and we talk about nothing and laugh – he's really not such a bad guy when I'm drunk. The room spins and I don't think about anything bad. Marty practically carries me to my room – my arm's around his shoulder and I stumble and laugh every time I do. I fall asleep on my soft, soft bed and I don't have a problem in the world. I don't hurt. I'm not hungry. Life is good.

This train of thought does not continue when I wake up the next morning.

* * *

**Author's Note**

*Tetanus (usually associated with infected wounds, particularly from rusted metal). He knows the scientific term but he's still think of it as the colloquial term.

** Since this wasn't covered in the books I'm making this up. If you're drawn in the preliminaries, you're only entered in the finals once. So a kid like Gale who has their name in forty-two times is much more likely to get chosen in the preliminaries, but once they get to the final round they're not any more likely than any of the kids around them.

Yes I know in the books the older kids are up front. The younger kids in front made more sense to me – from the point-of-view of someone from the Capitol taping, you can get the older kids' faces over the younger kids' much easier than the reverse, and since the older kids are statistically more likely to be drawn, you want to give them as long and dramatic a walk to the stage as possible. It looked good in the film.

So about the names. I was able to justify keeping the name Anthony because it is a Roman name and I figured some of the victors might give their kids Capitol-esque names. My justification for Clint is pretty paper thin – but there are a handful of normal names throughout the book, which indicates they do have some cultural memory. I have to believe the livestock district has some vague cultural memory of western movies. I'm fully aware I should be shot for the Bruce/Spruce pun.

I know it's probably bad form to write the numbers of the district instead of writing out the word, but for some reason I felt that worked stylistically.


	2. Chapter 1-2 (Clint)

Chapter 1.2

Reaping Day in District 10

I stay out with the goats until the last possible minute. I'm in a suit and nice shoes but I don't care. All shoes are always covered in some kind of livestock crap in District 10. We take them off at the door when we go inside. Snowball nuzzles my hand – he thinks he's a dog. I pick him up and scratch his ears like a dog, and kiss him on the snout. If I get Reaped, Duke had better not sell him while I'm gone.

"Do you want to get charged with treason?" Duke snaps from across the fence.

"No," I say flatly.

"I'm not gonna sell your stupid favorite goat," he says with a smile. He knows me so well. I can see a little bit of the old Duke in his smile some days.

Snowball was my pet from before he got Reaped – we got him when I was seven. He could eat the grass and live on it, so he didn't cost us anything, and he was trained to do a couple of tricks to help us get money. He's old and arthritic now, so I don't think he can do any of those tricks anymore. Duke wanted to get a nanny goat so we could get the milk but I saw Snowball as a little tiny kid, all white and looking lonely and I insisted on taking him even though he was the runt. We saw humans who starved to death with a belly full of grass all the time, and one time I asked Duke if Snowball was really okay eating it, and he explained about how some animals could break down grass but humans couldn't. It would be nice if we could … the fields are full of grass.

I brood over what's happened. I guess all the word Duke spread about three tesserae worth of money to the family of anyone who volunteered to take my place if I was drawn was a waste of time. As soon as I was drawn, I immediately realized that I need to get to a bow, even if I have to run into the bloodbath to do it. I can shoot coyotes and foxes through the eye from three hundred feet away at twilight – pretty sure the Careers will be no problem.

If it's an open field … which it probably won't be. If it's something like in the sixty-third games – my formative games, the first ones I remember – where it's a ruined city, I'll be fine. I get a bow, I jump from roof to roof, and I pick everyone off. If it's a jungle or a forest, I might be able to do something similar with trees, but it'll be harder. If it's a desert, I've lucked out – I'll be vulnerable but only if I'm caught unawares, and I can live in a desert. If it's an ocean or a beach … I'm very, very dead. I can't swim very well, and I don't know how to fish. I sure don't know anything about boats.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. "It's not locked," I call. I don't want to leave this bed – it's the softest I've ever been in, and if I'm going to die I want to spend every minute I can sleeping in a soft bed first. The door opens and Brandy comes in. "I can't sleep," she tells me pitifully. "Can I sleep with you?" She's the youngest of eight – her only sisters are too old to volunteer for her, and all the rest are brothers. I know she's never slept alone in her life – I never did either, until Duke won his Games. For as long as I can remember, I slept next to Duke – whether in a bed, a sleeping bag, on a floor, or on the ground. I remember the first night I slept alone – I didn't like it. "Come on," I say with a sigh, and throw the sheets back. She climbs in the bed with me. She has a little rag doll she apparently sleeps with. She's so, so very young … and I know I can't kill her. Even if it were my life or hers I can't. I'm going to put myself on the opposite end of the arena and hope someone else kills her before I'm forced to. "Just stay on your side," I order coldly. I don't want her to like me, I don't want her to come looking for me in the Arena.

"Okay," she promises.

Within thirty minutes, she's asleep, and I can barely breathe because there's a little girl choking me with her arms around my neck, breathing on my ear, and putting her knee in my stomach. I can just imagine Duke chuckling at the sight – justice at last for all the nights he slept with me draped over him or tangled around him when I was little and he was … slightly less little.

The fear almost gets me then … if I don't win, I'll never see him again. I don't let that thought take hold.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I was inspired for the stuff with Snowball by an interview with Jeremy Renner on David Letterman. His mom and stepfather apparently had a ranch and his favorite goat was a white miniature goat called Snowball.

When I was first plotting out this story, for a while it was just the Avengers characters in a Hunger Games setting. Clint was basically Katniss – he was from District 12, and I switched the birth order on him and "Duke" (Barney in the comics, I forget what his name was at that point in development) and he volunteered because his little brother got Reaped. I was going to have a character based on Mockingbird (Hawkeye's *grumble screw you Marvel editorial grumble* ex-wife from the comics and one of my favorite Marvel characters) in basically the same role as Peeta, but I decided that I wanted to see the Avengers interacting with the Hunger Games characters and changed the story around to be a more genuine crossover.

It used to be much more common for siblings to share beds. My grandmother and her eight brothers and sisters used to sleep in one big bed (with the two youngest laying at the foot) so I imagine that's common in a world like Panem where the Districts have sort of backslid into the eighteenth century in a lot of ways. The books mention that Katniss and Prim share a bed (except when Prim gets scared and goes to their mother), Rue and Katniss sleep next to each other in the arena, and Katniss and Peeta sharing a bed platonically between the 74th and 75th Games. So even though Brandy's not his sister, considering she's twelve, and a twelve-year-old from an outlying district would probably look more like a nine-year-old since I doubt very seriously they eat well enough to enter puberty, I don't think this would be too weird for him (all though someone from the Capitol would probably judge him for it since they'd have the more industrialized "bed sharing = sexual" mindset).


	3. Chapter 1-3 (Tony)

Chapter 1.3

Reaping Day

Tony

I remember my first time in the Capitol. Dad was allowed to bring me because I was too little to do anything harmful. I must have been three, maybe four, at the time. I could probably figure out the exact age I was by taking a closer look at the Hunger Games from when I was a little kid, but I really don't care to. Because the year doesn't matter – the feeling does.

The Capitol residents scared the hell out of me – I hid behind my dad whenever one tried to talk to me. They looked like clowns from hell with their make-up and wigs and crazy eyelashes and bizarre augmentations. "He's … shy," Dad would lie as I cowered behind his leg. That only made them want to talk to me more, and they'd coo and reassure me everything was all right and they wouldn't bite. I was never entirely convinced.

And then there were the Avoxes.

I was in Dad's quarters, playing with my toys, while he discussed something with his tribute. A man, tall with blond hair, came in to change the sheets on our bed. I ran up to tell him hi, and of course he wasn't used to people approaching him. He waved at me, after a moment's hesitation, and of course I didn't know you weren't supposed to talk to them. I started telling him about circuits or whatever was on my little mind that day, and something I said made him laugh.

It's a very, very strange sound, when an Avox laughs, and of course I could see he didn't have a tongue. It's stupid, but that's the dumb crap that scares little kids senseless, and I screamed for my dad.

I still remember the look on his face when I screamed. If he'd looked surprised, that would have been one thing. He didn't, he just looked … a little disappointed. Because he was used to people reacting with horror, and at least I had the excuse of being little. Dad got back in the room in a hurry, of course. The man hung his head and made an apologetic gesture. "No it's … it's all right," Dad said as he picked me up. "You can go." The man hurried off, and a good thing too. District 3's Capitol liaison came running in, and he asked me if the "bad man" scared me. Dad put his hand on the back of my head to surreptitiously press my face into his shoulder and keep me from nodding or speaking – he knew the man would be severely punished if anyone thought he did even the slightest thing to bother me.

"No … Anthony just smashed his fingers and the Avox responded instinctively to comfort him, and he was apologetic for breaking his directives," he said and kissed the knuckles on my right hand to sell the story. I knew if my dad was lying it was important, and I overcompensated by acting like my hand was hurt for two days.

The other mentors knew exactly how true my "shyness" was – I talked them all up all throughout the training time. There was a scramble for sponsors right from the start, but the bar at the training center served as a hub, and there was always at least a few mentors there. I especially liked the mentors from 6 – they seemed to like me a whole lot. Looking back, I probably made more sense than they did – I don't even remember what we talked about but Dad says we would start on trains (because I knew they did trains in 6) and end on waterfalls or clouds. Chaff and Haymitch tossed me between them – I don't think they threw me very far but when I was little I thought I was getting thrown clear across the room and I loved it. Silver, a woman from 1, thought I was the cutest thing ever and probably would have stolen me if she could have. She would sit me in her lap and let me talk her ear off. Cecelia from 8 managed to adore me even more – she looked out for me whenever she thought Chaff and Haymitch's rough housing with me was getting too … well, rough, and scolded my Dad for not paying more attention to me. Most of the others saw me as a mild annoyance, and put up with me for my dad's sake.

Except the guy from 2. Emilianus Blonski. I ran up to him on the second or third day and he kicked me like a dog. I fell to the ground, too stunned to cry or anything. Silver ran to help me up, chewing Blonski's ear for doing it. Dad did more than that – the next thing I knew he had the guy in a chokehold and pushed him back against the bar, knocking over some bottles and glasses. "If you ever touch my son again, you will be dead," he told him flatly. Everyone could tell he meant it.

If I wanted to I could figure out what Games they were because I remember District 3's girl tribute, Cathode. She liked to sit and hold me because she was the oldest of several kids and she had a little brother my age. It confused me to no end – I had no idea why she wanted to hug so badly but not play or talk.

The morning that the Games started, she insisted on seeing me one more time. She tried not to wake me up as she hugged me. "What time is it?" I asked grumpily when she failed. She didn't answer, and Dad led her away. I could hear her sobbing all the way down the hall.

For the next three days, things were ugly. Dad had taken me with him before – but now I stayed in his quarters, with the Avox watching over me. Dad came home very late that night (I was still awake because I always refused bedtimes) and instead of chiding me for not minding a grown-up, he picked me up and held me tight for a very long time. I could feel his body shaking against mine, and I knew he was scared. I wondered what kind of monsters were big enough and mean enough to scare the bravest man I knew.

We went home on the fourth day – I was just glad to be gone from the strange place with the scary people and whatever scared Daddy. It only occurred to me, years and years later, that we left because both the tributes for District 3 had been killed in the first three days.

It's Reaping Day. I wake up and remember this day five years ago, and my resolve is strengthened.

Mom's hands shake as she puts breakfast on the table – our cook Volts rushes to help her before she drops something. I feel bad when I see how afraid she is, but I know what I have to do. "It's okay, Mom," I say quickly, and take a pitcher of apple juice from her before she can drop it. I almost change my mind, I almost tell her it's almost over, since the odds of my being drawn are very small. In fact, judging by the latest statistics on tesserae, the odds I'll be drawn are about one tenth of a percent (assuming the odds are truly even for victors' children, which is of course in serious doubt). But I know what I have to do.

Dad comes in and we eat in silence. He doesn't ask about what I'm working on this morning, he knows I have other things on my mind. Well … he doesn't know the half of it, but he thinks he knows.

It's almost time for the Reaping. Stane pulls me aside under the guise of asking about my current project. "Can it wait?" Dad asks, annoyed.

"Probably – you know the odds on Tony," he says with the fake smile he's learned so well. "But … I thought I'd ask while it was on my mind." Dad rolls his eyes and leads Mom on out to the car.

"Are you sure about this, Tony?" Stane asks.

"I am," I say calmly.

"I can't guarantee your safety, Tony."

"I know," I say, still keeping the calm tone. I'm ready.

We all file into the city square just like we always do – District 3 is small enough to draw for everyone at once. I stand near the back since I'm one of the oldest. My last year. If I keep my mouth shut, they'll probably draw someone else – probably another one of the eighteen-year-olds, one of the poor kids whose been taking tesserae ever since they were of age. Or maybe it'll be one of the little kids, like it was five years ago.

We sit through all the niceties like we always do – just like we did five years ago.

Gaius, the Capitol liaison I know all too well, draws for the girls. He draws a girl who looks to be about fourteen. I take a deep breath.

I wonder whose name would get grabbed if I wasn't going to volunteer. "Do we have any volunteers for the gentleman?" he asks, all though it's really just a formality. He doesn't expect anyone to actually do it – not in 3. 3 and 5 are the … more peaceable inner districts.

But I've never been one to follow the pattern.

"I volunteer," I say strongly and clearly, and start to head to the stage. Everyone turns to look at me, shocked. Dad's eyes go wide, but he doesn't dare say anything. I don't dare look at Mom.

I climb on stage, and Gaius has this infuriating grin – he already knows who I am of course. "Well, introduce yourself to the nation," he says, handing me the microphone he's been using.

"My name is Anthony Stark, and I'm volunteering as tribute for District 3." Everyone applauds even though they're confused.

They lead us into the Hall of Justice to wait. We have a quite a bit of time before the train comes for us. I brace myself. "What the hell was that?!" Dad demands as soon as he's in the room with me. Mom is crying – I knew she would be and I can't stand it.

"Trust me, Dad, I have a plan," I say firmly.

"Howard …" Stane interjects evenly, trying to come to my rescue.

"Did you know about this?" Dad demands, turning on him. Mom runs forward and hugs me tight.

"Why, Anthony?" she asks through a strangled sob.

"Trust me, Mom," I say evenly. "I'm coming back." I want to explain my plan and why I'm doing it, but of course this is probably the least safe place to do it. "It's going to be fine, Mom, try not to worry," I say, but _of course _she's going to worry.

Stane tries in vain to talk Dad down a little bit. "I'm going with him …" Dad starts.  
"Howard, you can't be mentor for your own son …"  
"Watch me!"

"It's against the rules … I'll be the mentor this year, just like it was planned. You know I want the boy back safe and sound as much as you do …"

"Dad, trust me," I repeat, and I pull away from Mom to look him in the eye. "Trust me," I repeat one more time.

Then there's no more words. There were never a lot of words between us anyway. But he does hug me, which is sort of a shock because there were never many hugs between us either, but on the other hand I knew even he would be the hugging type at a moment like this.

Stane steps out and leaves us alone, just the Stark family unit, and we're allowed to stay that way for some time. When the Peacekeepers finally come to get me, I'm not sure I want to leave. But it's too late to back out now.

"I love you, Anthony," Mom says and kisses me on the cheek. Dad doesn't say anything at first until I'm almost out of the room, then he grabs me by the hand.

"Whatever your plan is, it had better work, Tony. You better come home." I almost ask him, "Or what, old man?" but for once I bite my tongue.

"Yes, sir."


	4. Chapter 1-4 (Shale)

Chapter 1.4

Reaping Day – Shale

It's hard to believe that just a week ago, I was with Dad, looking for oil pockets in District 10. I froze when they called my name – I knew it was a possibility from the moment I was drawn in the preliminaries. But even if you're intellectually prepared … it's still quite a shock when you actually hear your name. I went cold all over – standing there under the hot sun. I forced myself to go onstage with as much dignity as I could – I know the betting on me starts now.

I stand there, all eyes on me – I don't let myself look at my dad since I know I'll cry if I see him. I don't look at anyone – I look over the heads of everyone and try to look resolved and brave. Our Capitol escort, Glitter Jones (I don't know if "Glitter" is her real name or not) calls the boy's name – he's not anyone I know. Stephen Rogers – he's a little boy, definitely not any older than 12. He's very thin and small, even for his age. We shake hands – I know he's dead, and I probably am too. I can't let that affect me, not yet.

The anthem is played, and Peacekeepers escort us to the back rooms of the ironically named Hall of Justice. I notice a boy who also looks about twelve but whose quite a bit bigger come running to say goodbye to the little boy. I wonder how many tributes have said goodbye to their loved ones in the very room where I'm left alone with my father. "Shale," he says breathlessly, and holds me tight. My mother died in a refinery accident when I was seven – she sacrificed herself to shut down the CAT cracker* before it could blow up and make a huge crater in District 5's largest city. It makes me sick to think if I win I'll get more honor for the mere act of survival than she did for tremendous bravery. "Shale …" Dad repeats, all color gone from his face.  
"It's okay Dad – I'll be one of the survivalists. I'll go off in the woods and wait until the fighting has died down …" No one from the inner districts has ever done that – the only successful survivalists are all from outlying districts. But I can learn – I've always been quick to learn, and I've been to other districts with Dad, everywhere from 12 to look for new coal deposits to 4 to look at offshore drilling. I have a very rough idea what I would do in any of those environments, and I suspect they'll offer at least basic training in survival for the environment we're going to be in.

"You better, Shaley … I can't lose you," he says weakly. "I just … I can't." I remember how he was after Mom died – I suspect the only reason he could get up and go on was because he had me to think about. And even then … there were days he didn't.

"I'll come back," I promise. I have to – he needs me.

* * *

**Author's Note**

* This is an actual thing. It's a piece of equipment that helps break down the complex carbohydrates found in petroleum in such a way that it allows the production of a substantially higher yield for refined petroleum products like gasoline and plastic precursors. It's also one of the most dangerous pieces of equipment in any refinery – there was an incident at the refinery in my hometown and the only massive injuries were sustained by two engineers who rushed to shut down the CAT cracker before the flames got to it. If the flames had hit the cracker while it was active, it might have blown up the whole refinery (and like my entire town).

District 5 is power, and from what I can gather that includes things like oil drilling and refining, solar and wind power, etc. I imagine that those with certain skills (like geologists) would be among the few District natives allowed to travel to other districts – looking for places in other districts to drill for oil and set up windmills and the like. There is such a thing as oil-rich shale and that's why I chose the name for our clever Foxface.


	5. Chapter 1-5 (Drusa)

Chapter 1.5

Reaping Day for District 2 – Drusa

It's a very short train ride to the Capitol, so we have some more time to spend in our district. I know how Cato will spend his last hours in District 2 – I spend mine dancing. There's no one to say good-bye to me – my family's gone, except for Clove and she doesn't count. It's part of why I volunteered – my state support runs out this year, and since I don't have anyone to pay my bills I'd either have to drop out of the academy and get a job in the quarries or I'd have to convince the training committee I'm a strong enough competitor to give me a stipend, and I know what half of the process of doing that convincing is for female students. I decided I might as well try out now, since I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I still relish the look on Clove's face when the committee chose me for volunteer – I half expected her to try to volunteer before me anyway. I've always hated that sadist.

Cato, at least, I don't think is a sadist. He's ruthless, with a hair trigger temper … but I've never seen him torture animals. Clove and the other sadists love throwing knives or rocks at animals for target practice, or tearing them apart for no real reason. I hurt when I have to – for training, for survival. But I don't like it. Which isn't to say it bothers me, either.

Friends are a luxury the students at the academy can't afford, and since I have no family, there's no one to play music for me in this little gray stone room in the basement of the Hall of Justice, so I dance to the music in my head – the beautiful, instrumental music from the days before even the mysterious nation that came before Panem. I use the room as my stage, and dance for an invisible audience. I've always wanted to dance. I was born for it. It will be my talent when I win.

I'm somewhat bothered by the idea of killing Cato. He's been … relatively close to being a friend of mine. He's not a sadist, he's dedicated enough to training to justify his arrogance, and he's decently smart. He's even good with the first years – the vicious, arrogant, eager ten-year-olds who constantly fight each other and try to fight the older kids. And by that I mean he's only broken bones on them a few times. No, I mean more than that – he mentors them, showing them how to use certain weapons and how to suck up to certain teachers. But I know that won't show in the Arena – he'll run a sword through the adorable twelve-year-olds from the other districts (who look like ten-year-olds from ours) as readily as he'll run it through me or any of the other older competitors. He'll make his kills slow and painful, play up the sadist angle for the cameras. And I know when it comes down to it, I'll slit his throat as easily as I will anyone else's. It's what happens after that concerns me. When it comes to the Arena, everyone else is already dead – there's no sense in delaying the matter due to sentiment. I will try to let him get a decent body count first though – I don't know how successful he's been in the last month, but I want any children he has to be supported. But if he forces my hand, I won't let that stop me from doing what I have to.

I do a pirouette, and find my half-sister standing by the door. "Don't let any of the others see you do that," she says, but to my surprise she's smiling. I'm amazed she's here.

"Were you here to say goodbye to Cato?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. She shakes her head and makes a face.

"I've got two more years to volunteer, and who knows what they'll do for the Quarter Quell?" I'm glad – I think of my mother and hers, alone after Aurelius and Lucretia were killed by the girl from District 3's trap, and I'm glad that's not her fate should both Cato and I fall. Aurelius did well enough that people were eager to support them for a few years – they knew we were both potential tributes – but eventually support fell away. Her mother married the following year's victor and mine became a Peacekeeper – she left me with Clove's mother, but her husband threw me out. I'm not sure which of us is worse off – her stepfather is a vile man, and I'm all alone. Except for her … I guess. I know she tried this year because she wants to get away from Vinicius and her terrible half-siblings – when she's a victor in her own right, she can have a house of her own and be free of him, no matter how young she is. She can make decisions for herself as an adult because she'll have earned it. I'd feel sorry that I've delayed that for her if she wasn't so awful.

"Why did you come then?" She punches my arm hard.

"Don't be stupid, Drusa," she snaps. I know she's here for me – she doesn't want to admit she cares for me any more than I want to admit I care for her. I think she has an overly romantic view of my life as an orphan – she thinks it's all freedom and adventure. I think it'd be better to know I have a roof over my head and food on the table no matter what happens, even if I had to share that roof and that table with a terrible person, but maybe we're both wrong. "When I win … I'll let you stay with me. Vinicius won't be able to stop you – not if I claim you. We'll divide the house in half and you can stay on your end while I stay on mine until you get your chance. We'll never have to speak or even see each other."

"If you can win, you stupid Oner." We make fun of the District 1 tributes with their focus on beauty – both she and I have been called "Oners" all our lives because we got our father's good looks.

"Look who's talking," I say and pull her long black braid.

We have a playful fight, a "kitten fight" if you will – the equivalent of an "I love you," for the potential tributes of District 2. The only other time I've ever fought her, it wasn't so playful – I broke two of her fingers, she gave me a concussion. And the only reason it wasn't worse was because neither of us were in possession of knives at that time. Well, we probably had more kitten fights when we were very little while our mothers looked on and laughed – but neither of us remember those days.

I hold onto this – they won't interview her or show her reaction as the Games go on, and when she volunteers in one or two years they won't mention we're sisters. We sweep under the rug the facts of victor polygamy and the encouragement given to male tributes to sire children before the Games with the female finalists. I'm sure the Gamemakers and certain officials in the Capitol know, but it's not well known to the general public. The Capitol would probably _love_ to hear about it and press in their ears for all the lewd details, and the other Districts would probably be horrified. It's easier just to keep it quiet. So many times a male victor's child by his second or third wife has gone into the Arena with no one in the Capitol or any other districts knowing it, or a female victor's other husbands are called "uncles" or "family friends" during the interviews, or the adopted child of a female victor competes with no one mentioning they're the biological child of her fallen district partner. In the interviews, neither tribute ever speaks of the unborn children who will be orphans if both of the tributes from District 2 lose. I won't acknowledge I'm trying to do what my father failed to do. If I fall, they won't show my half-sister's reaction. If I win, she won't be there to greet me when I return home, triumphant – at least not until the cameras are gone. Only the rest of District 2 will know. And that will be enough.

The Peacekeepers who are serving as my escort open the door and find me forcing her to the ground while we both laugh, and smile fondly. We untangle ourselves and I get up to follow them. "May you bring honor to the mother who bore you, to the father who beget you, and the land that molded you," she says seriously, giving me the traditional blessing. "And may the odds be ever in your favor," she adds. We usually don't say that – the former is more important. An honorable death beats winning due to dumb luck. But for the first time, I know she wants me to come back. Whether or not that's out of concern for me or just wanting to make sure she gets away from Vinicius remains to be seen.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

I went with sixteen-year-old Clove so if you picture book Clove you can imagine she's an old-looking sixteen-year-old or if you picture movie Clove you can imagine she's a young-looking sixteen-year-old.

Drusa is Latin for fierce and so that's what I went with for Natasha. I sort of regret it since it's the furthest from the names any of the others have.

This is easily the chapter I feel most conflicted about. I feel like I took some more risks with it but I don't know how well they actually paid off. I wanted to experiment a bit with the culture of 2 since, like I said, I didn't want to make everyone from 1 and 2 totally evil. I thought about what would happen in a District that was all about the Games and … well … I ended up with this sort of eugenics thing going on, because they'd want every possible advantage, and I don't think anyone whose willing to train children to fight to the death from the time they're tiny tots would feel bad about encouraging the strong winners/competitors to breed. At the same time though, I'm trying to not make everyone from the Career districts EVUL!11!


	6. Chapter 2 Et Circenses (Spruce)

Chapter 2

Et Circenses

Cassius, who already threw a huge fit about getting me glasses in the first place, insists that the stylist's assistants get me "presentable" first before he takes me to get them. This apparently means intense physical torture.

The assistants – all of them bizarrely colored creatures with odd surgical additions and tattooing, chatter endlessly amongst themselves and at me (not to me, that would imply I had a fighting chance to get a word in edgewise) while they work on me for what seems like hours. I blush a little when they have me take off my clothes – especially when I drop my pants and one of the two women raises a neon orange eyebrow and says, "You must be popular with the ladies back home." Not least of all because I've never kissed a girl – they all think of me as a friend, not a lover. They scrub my skin until I'm red and raw. They argue about whether or not to cut and/or straighten my hair – they decide to leave that to my stylist, and settle for just washing it three or four times. I have a tattoo of "Rebeckah," which is my mother's name on my upper arm, and according to the women it's far too plain for them and not to their liking, and the man comments that he's surprised since I'm so clean cut and "nerdy." I have no idea what nerdy means, and I'm really confused by both attitudes – the lettering is relatively ornate for 7 and almost everyone in 7 has at least a few, usually names of lost loved ones (and sometimes things of a raunchier nature). They scrub under my nails (on hands and feet) until I'm sure I'll bleed. And worst of all – the waxing. They wax every bit of hair off my body except my eyebrows, eyelashes and head. Not only does it hurt so much that I'm on the verge of begging for the Arena by the end and having to fight very hard not to let the Other Guy start punching faces, but I somehow feel even more naked now that I'm lying here very red and very hairless, like a newborn baby. I'm not sure why Capitol women would find this state attractive. Or Capitol men for that matter. I hear other voices hollering through the curtains they've set up between us, so I know I'm not alone in my discomfort. I'm not sure if that helps or makes it worse.

The actual stylist, an older woman with a very stiff face (probably from numerous cosmetic surgeries) comes in, takes a look at me, and sighs heavily. "I'll work with him, I guess. Get him measured. I want his hair an inch shorter, but leave it curly. Oh … for pity's sake I can't work with _that_," she says contemptuously and gestures at my mother's name. "Talk to Cassius about taking him to someone that can get it taken off."

"No!" the Other Guy snaps before I can stop him. All four people standing in my little "room" stare, and the whole grooming area goes dead quiet.

"I mean … It's my mother's name," I say more politely, forcing the Other Guy into submission even though I'm sick to my stomach at the thought of tearing my mother's name away, or however they do it. "I would really, really rather not have it removed," I plead.

"I'm sorry, but I simply cannot …" Another stylist comes through the curtain and to my rescue. He's a young, brown-skinned man – he looks something like most people from 11 but his skin has a lighter tone than most – and he's not nearly as gaudy as most of the other stylists.

"Felicia – you're going to have him fighting you tooth and nail on this. I know you're used to working with 4 –but this isn't a sailor's tattoo. It's a tradition in 7 to have the names of loved ones who've passed away tattooed," he explains. I'm surprised he understands, since apparently no one else in the Capitol does. Felicia's eyes soften when he says "passed away," and that's also a surprise. "It's very serious business – it'll be like spitting on his mother's grave to him if you make him have it removed. Please don't – it'll be fairly easy to cover with make-up."

"Well … or a well-placed leaf. I'll think about it," Felicia says begrudgingly, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for explaining," I tell the stranger.

"It's nothing," he says graciously, and retreats to return to his duties now that the scene is mostly averted.

"I'm sorry I got … emotional," I tell her sheepishly, not looking her in the eye.

"Please, get emotional in the Arena," she says with a chuckle.

"Cassius mentioned he's getting him glasses," the male assistant pipes up.

"Ugh … I hate that. Won't contacts work?"  
"My mentor is … quite adamant that I get glasses for safety and hygiene reasons," I say. By quite adamant I mean she cursed Cassius very heartily for his stupidity when he suggested contacts, pointing out I wouldn't have anything to use to clean them and they would make a handful of sand thrown in my eyes practically deadly, and Cassius caved.

"Very well. I'll have to see you again as soon as you have them." I nod obediently, and desperately hope this means I'm only a few measurements and a haircut from getting to put my clothes back on.

The eye doctor is the most clean cut and ordinary-looking of any of the Capitol citizens I've seen. Which is to say his hair is bright blue but he otherwise appears normal. I ask him dozens of questions about his profession – I'm still in awe of meeting an actual doctor and this is probably my only chance to ask. He doesn't get annoyed with me – rather he happily tells me everything I want to know, in between asking me actually relevant questions related to figuring out my prescription for glasses. Cassius is tagging along, and he snaps at me to stop bothering the doctor.

"Oh I don't mind this young man's questions at all – isn't that the point of all this? To find the best and brightest in the Districts and give them a chance to learn about the Capitol and have a better life?" It takes me a while to say anything after that because I'm not sure how I feel about this particular way to describe the point of the Games.

He writes out a note on a little electronic device, and apparently sends a copy to Cassius. It's my prescription. Cassius gawks at it for a minute before exclaiming, "You _sew people up_?! With these eyes?" The eye doctor chuckles at his reaction while I explain,

"I can see just fine if it's only a few feet in front of me."

"I was wondering why you were so curious," the eye doctor says. "Anyways Cassius … I consider it inevitable the glasses will get broken at least once in training or the Games. The shop next door's happy to send him up to three pairs, including the gift tax, as long as you," he turns to me. "Make sure to mention who did your glasses in your interview. Understand?" I nod enthusiastically.

Cassius pulls me next door to look at frames – he shepherds me around hurriedly and secretively, as though he's afraid I'll embarrass him. We look at the frames and he immediately gravitates towards tiny frames with gaudy colors and patterns, but I surreptitiously edge away and find a small row of frames I actually like. In particular, I'm drawn to a frame that's black with squarish lens holders. I try those on in the mirror – it's hard to see through the plastic show lenses, but I like how they look on me. "Don't you want something better?" Cassius asks with a sigh, gesturing overdramatically (does he do anything any other way?) at the display in front of him.

"These are more … me," I insist. They already waxed me, they're probably going to give me clothes I don't like, they're gong to parade me around dressed in a ridiculous tree costume, and of course all these indignities are piling up on top of the fact they're going to kill me. I'm not letting them bully me into stupid glasses I don't like – that's where I draw the line. He sighs, apparently deciding I'm hopeless, and gestures to the sales assistant.

Felicia is surprisingly happy with the glasses I picked – apparently it works with her image of me. The thought of her trying to remake me in her image makes my skin crawl, but I grin and bear it. She and Juniper's stylist put Juniper and me in these tree costume things … of course they do. Of course given the trees she designs, I think neither has ever seen a tree in their life, but I keep my mouth shut. So does Juniper – she rolls her eyes when no one's looking, and we exchange a sympathetic look.

I find my heart racing and my palms sweating, and I have no idea why. We're just riding in a chariot. "Nice glasses," the girl from 8 tells me genuinely. She's probably trying to distract herself from the horribleness of her costume – she and her district partner are in these awful multi-colored, multi-textured things that look like they threw every kind of fabric they could imagine. You really would not think the textile district was so hard to do – I imagine a girl in a velvet dress and a boy in a silk suit would stand out nicely next to all the gaudy, awful things everyone else is wearing. Then again, considering that she's also quite beautiful, she should probably be glad she's not naked.

"Thanks," I say. I'm not sure I remember her name and I don't want to say anything.

"What was your name again?" she asks, not sharing my qualms, and I'm very relieved.

"Spruce," I say, and extend my hand.

"Calico," she says and takes it. "I think we actually got off sort of easy," she says, and points her head towards the poor saps from District 10. I look, and then stifle a laugh. Well, I feel sorry for the boy, anyway – the little girl seems to be having a good time. She's dressed as a very pink, very gaudy cowgirl – with a pink costume complete with pink cowboy hat, pink boots, and pink fringe on a shirt covered in pink rhinestones – and the boy is in a highly stylized horse costume. I suddenly do not feel bad about the leaves and vines (thankfully thick enough that I don't feel naked) I have draped over my body or the "branches" coming from my shoulders. In fact, no one's looks bad next to his. I'm actually sort of jealous of the pair from 12 – they're dressed in black. Black like coal I suppose. I love that their stylists didn't even try to get ambitious.

They shepherd us around and get us all lined up and into our chariots. I've never seen horses up close – they're bigger than I thought, somehow. I stop and pet one, and it seems to like me. Of course, I'm sure they pick the good-natured ones since they have to deal with so much noise. "Come on, we haven't got all day," the horse handler tells me sharply, and I climb into the chariot with Juniper.

Here we go.

My heart races as the chariot starts to move. The tributes from the lower numbered districts go out first, obviously. The crowd goes wild for them, and I wonder – what are the odds on me anyway? I'm guessing they're higher than usual considering the mysterious bloody shirt incident. They'll drop when I tell the truth – which worries me because I don't know how I'll get sponsors.

I really hope it's not an ocean. Or a desert. I don't want to die of thirst – I think I can deal with dying of hunger.

The chariot rolls out in full view of the Capitol crowd, and my mind turns to the present. I've seen this every year on television … but I'm not prepared for seeing it in person. There's a huge crowd, and at first I'm mortified, knowing that they're staring at me. But then I see the tributes in front of me and Juniper beside me waving to the crowd, and I decide to do the same. I force a smile and wave, trying to be charming.

It suddenly occurs to me that I don't know if Dad's watching … and it's all I can do not to cry when I think about District 7 watching me at home.

We're well on our way through the parade when I hear the crowd get especially boisterous – I don't dare turn around to look behind me to see what's caught their attention. But glancing up at the replay screens, I see it – it's not just black that the District 12 kids are wearing. They're somehow _on fire_.

I have to force myself to look away – something about the girl from 12 is captivating. It's like there's fire in her eyes, and the flames from her costumes just highlight it. Judging by the cheering from the crowd, they're captivated too.

We come to the end of the stadium and the well-trained horses go to their places in a surprisingly intricate formation. There's some more formalities – the announcers make a big show of presenting us, and President Snow gives a speech. I've seen him on TV – I can tell more about him from the broadcasts than from this distant viewing, but I look at him, trying to be as respectful as possible even though I know he's the head of the government that's sending twenty-three of us to our deaths. I don't want to give anyone any cause for retaliation against people I love.

At last we're dismissed, and we find ourselves in a jumbled mess in a huge open space inside one end of the stadium – there's no more Capitol witnesses here, but our mentors, escorts, and stylists are waiting for us. Johanna nods to me – I find it encouraging. Marty gripes at Juniper for not smiling enough (I notice the irony but choose not to point it out) while Felicia and her assistants congratulate themselves on how good we look. I glance over the gathered tributes, looking for 12. I find the girl from 12 – she really is beautiful, maybe even more so than the girls from 1 and 2.

She catches me looking at her – her eyes meet mine and I look away, pretending I wasn't staring, and feel blood rush to my cheeks. My eyes fall on 3 – I notice that District 3's costumes are actually not terrible this year. They're in a black (or maybe just very dark blue) outfit with glowing blue lines throughout – it actually looks nice. I look for other interesting costumes, trying to pretend that's all I've been doing. I feel Johanna's hand smack the back of my head, and I know I've failed, and I'm even more embarrassed to know that she noticed too. "Keep your eyes to yourself, Finnick," she hisses. I know who she's referring to and I blush even more at the comparison. Yeah … I _wish_. "Why don't we all head up to our quarters so you can take a cold shower?" Which I think is a bit much – I was just looking, and not terribly lustfully. I don't think.

"Why cold?" Juniper asks innocently. Mercifully, no one explains it to her.

I only thought I was impressed by the train – just the living room to our quarters could hold three copies of my cabin with some room left over. There's glass tables and chandeliers and things I've only read about – Juniper looks around at it like a kid in a candy store. I ask which room is mine – all I want to do is sleep. Cassius notices my lack of appropriate wonder, and makes a sound of disapproval before showing me to my bedroom.

There's an adjoining bathroom – I go in with the intention of washing off all the make-up that Felicia and her assistants put on me. I spend thirty minutes just figuring out how to work the massively overcomplicated shower – and accidentally squirt myself with several clashing scents of soap in the process.

After I finally figure it out and take less time to actually get clean than to figure out the shower, I dry myself on towels that are even fluffier than what we had on the train and head to my bedroom. I find clothes in a closet – these are my size, but none of them are anything I would wear at home. I'm about to go to sleep anyway, so all I take are some shorts. I climb into the bed – which is big enough to hold three or four people for reasons I can't fathom. Maybe it's because they know most of us grew up sharing a bed with all our siblings … but I imagine the emptiness of such a large bed would only drive home the fact they're sleeping alone and make them feel even more lonely. Maybe that's exactly the point. Or maybe they expect us to get up to … stuff.

I turn on the screen – I want to see what they're saying about us. They're talking about 12 of course – Katniss is the girl's name. It's an unusual name for her district – but then again 12 always has some odd names. I guess coal doesn't provide a wealth of possible names. The fashion experts seem to have decided that District 8 had the second-best costumes … I'm really not sure how they came to that conclusion since I would have said 3. They also found putting Clint from 10 in a horse costume a move of incredible brilliance. I realize that I'm among a completely different species and turn off the television. Maybe I don't want to know what they're saying after all.

There's another remote, this one a simple one-button thing labeled "window" and I curiously pick it up. I find it changes my view of the city to … an ocean. I hit the button again rapidly, and find a desert. I almost laugh at my luck, and hit it again. This time it's a forest – very different from the one at home, but a forest. I hit it again, hoping I'll find a forest more like the one at home – and in the process I find waves of grain, a smaller city, and a jungle. Then I cycle back through the actual view, the ocean, and the desert, and come back to the forest. I decide to leave it there – it's the closest I'll get. I know whoever designed this meant to comfort us in some way … I'm grateful for the effort. I fall asleep under the branches of the strange forest, trying not to think about the things I'll never know.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I went with a more unusual spelling of Rebecca since I figure it's been sort of shifted over time – the same way I'm pretty sure "Peeta" is a corruption of "Peter" and "Haymitch" is an alternate spelling of "Hamish."

Felicia – no relation to Felicia Hardy, Marvel fans.

I know in the movie District 7 had these paper origami things for their costume. I think that's giving the non-Cinna stylists way too much credit, so I kept the idea of them being stupid trees from the book (implied by Johanna's statement that they've been trees for forty years).

For District 3 costumes, I thought of the undersleeve Tony wears under the suit in Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Just a shout-out.


	7. Chapter 2-1 and 2-2 (Briar, Gale)

Chapter 2.1

Et Circenses – Briar

The boy isn't home. I'm not worried – he's always out getting his herbs.

But today Lucy Foreman's here.

The Games are supposed to be on soon … Lucy Foreman tells me I should care. She says Spruce was reaped. I open another bottle of whiskey then – I know the boy's dead, unless he runs off and is so quiet the others forget he's there and all kill each other. I can hope.

It's two days later. There's people trooping in and out of my house like they own the place – trying to look after me like I'm a child. They look at me like something they scrape off their shoes … I know they wouldn't be here if not for the boy. I tell them I don't need any help … I just want to drink and watch my boy on the screen.

I watch them bring the tributes in wearing their usual stupid costumes … but this time I don't care to make fun of them. I watch for District 7, knowing he's going to be in a stupid tree costume. He is – but they cleaned him up and cut his hair, and even got him eyeglasses. He looks like his mother … with a little bit of me. He smiles and waves. His eyes are wet and I know he's scared, but he doesn't show it except in his eyes.

I'm proud of him.

Chapter 2.2

Et Circenses – Gale

I watch Katniss catch fire. Peeta too, but I don't care about him.

I watch the crowd go wild for my best friend as her chariot takes her down the stretch of a huge stadium, mysteriously burning. I don't know how it works or how she's safe … but I see her lit with the flame I've always seen in her.

I feel a hot pain in my chest – as though the flames coming from her costume are lapping at my heart. I can't allow myself to have sympathy for anyone else – not even Peeta, who was nice to me sometimes. Katniss has to be the victor. She has to come home to me.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oh look, another pun I need to be shot for. The name "Briar" came about because I was talking to a friend about this story and said, "Quick, I need a tree-related name that's similar to Brian for Bruce's dad."

"Um … Briar?"  
"That's not much of a tree."

"So? He's not much of a dad." It also ended up being accidental symbolism since he's a thorn in his son's side.

Also I promise I don't hate Gale. I really don't.


	8. Chapter 2-3 (Johanna)

Chapter 2.3

Et Circenses – Johanna

Thankfully, there's a bar on the ground floor of the training center. They don't generally let the tributes drink here … all though maybe they should. They probably need it more than us. Then I think about how hung over Spruce was this morning and think better of it.

I think about the sweet, smart boy I've been given to mentor. In a week, two weeks max, that boy will be gone. Even if he survives, he'll never be the same. And his survival is looking more and more doubtful – in a normal year, he might have a chance. But he's up against Howard Stark's son, a couple of especially vicious Careers from 2, that boy from 10 (if he's anything like his brother) and the only decent shot at a victor 12's had in years.

I try to avoid the other mentors, especially those from 1, 2, and 4 – I killed some of their tributes. They never acknowledge me as such, but I know they think about it when they look at me.

Haymitch Abernathy is at the bar. I didn't kill his tributes – the Careers took care of that. Even so, I really hope he won't say anything to me. I order the hardest drink they have … which is an almost unbearably sweet cider, but oh well. Haymitch, on the other hand, is apparently perfectly content to get drunk on the fruity, colorful little drinks they serve around here. "This is your first time mentoring, isn't it?" Haymitch asks me. Crap.

"Yeah," I say with a nod. They gave me a few years to recover a little before they asked me. Even so, it feels way too soon … I hate being back in this awful city. I hate the fact any mistake I make could mean Spruce dies. I hate being here with all the drunks and the addicts, knowing I probably will be some time down the road. Actually … Haymitch doesn't seem as drunk as usual. Marty says he usually sobers up quite a bit during training so he's not useless to his tributes like the morphling addicts who always mentor the kids from 6 – but only after getting especially drunk on Reaping Day. (Given Haymitch's base level of drunk … I really don't want to know what "especially drunk" means for him, but I assume it contributed to his face plant at the Reaping.)

"Yours is … her name is some kind of tree, right?" Great guess, Haymitch. I glare at him.

"Juniper is her name. Actually, I've got the boy. Spruce. He got on Marty's bad side so we traded."  
"Does Marty have a good side?" Haymitch asks, and I find myself laughing. I realize tributes aren't the only ones who need to make alliances – I figure Haymitch has begged for gifts from just about everyone in this city by this point. Time to put on a smile.

"I guess not. What's up with Stark's boy – what do you think is his play?"

"Hell if I know. Stane says Howard hit the roof when he volunteered." Howard probably had word out he'd pay the family of anyone who volunteered if his son got reaped – not that it would have done any good. I think all the victors do that and their kids still end up in the Arena far too often to be purely coincidental.

"He must have a plan … he doesn't strike me as suicidal." And it's not like he needs the money.

"I'm sure he does. Guess we'll find out soon enough." That we would. I down half the sickeningly sweet cider at once.


	9. Chapter 3 Delaying the Inevitable

Chapter 3

Delaying the Inevitable

I'm wondering in the woods I see through my window. I know I'm not alone – the Other Guy is here, a separate presence instead of a voice in the back of my mind. He's smiling this time … it's not a reassuring smile. He looks like me – but his expressions aren't mine. I don't think.

"Fight!" he cheers as he hangs from the branches of one of the trees.

"Fight who?" I ask. I assume he means the other tributes. But maybe he wants to start a rebellion. I have no idea.

"Fight!" he repeats, and swings himself up to climb higher in the tree. He's faster and more limber than me. "Smash! Tear! Rip!" He continues in an unusually cheerful voice. Of course he's excited. Maybe he'll help me win. He helped me when Dad came home –

the Other Guy beat the old man so bad he never raised a hand at me again, and after that, I could stand to look at him.

I wander away, and the feeling of dread is gone all at once. Maple Winters is here – one of the girls from Muleshoe who comes running to me not just for sick nieces and nephews, but to tell me how awful the other boys are and how much she just wishes she could find _just one_ nice boy. They do that a lot … or at least they do when things are relatively good. When they're not, they usually have bigger things to worry about, like not dying of hunger. And I listen to their complaints, because I don't know what else I can do. "You've always been so nice, Spruce … I never knew you were handsome too," she says and runs her fingers through my hair. I don't know what to say but that doesn't matter because she doesn't seem to be that interested in talking. She pulls me close to kiss me, and probably more than that because she pulls at my belt …

"Hey, training in one hour!" Johanna informs me at top volume. She let herself into my room with no warning, and I wake up so fast I almost fall out of bed. Johanna slams the door behind her, and I rest my head against the pillow for a moment, wishing I could fall asleep again. "Don't go back to sleep," she calls through the door, as though she read my mind.

We're all in identical uniforms – probably to give us just enough of a sense of unity to keep from killing each other before they turn the cameras on us. I plan to do what Johanna told me to do over breakfast– I'll focus on the survival stations and pay attention to the group dynamics, without making it obvious I'm spying on people. I notice right away that the boy and girl from District 2 – Cato and Drusa – get along all right but Drusa can't stand any of the other Careers. She starts off standing next to Cato but as soon as our instructor dismisses us to go to the stations we choose, she gives the rest a contemptuous look and heads off on her own. She practices with some throwing knives – she hits targets with frightening accuracy. I head off to the plant recognition station – they have samples of plants from all over Panem and beyond, plus give general tips for distinguishing whether any kind of plants they engineer for us are edible, medicinal, poisonous, or none of the above. Without dying. Of course, I already know the ones that grow in my district – I focus on the ones that don't. I feel a tug on my sleeve, and turn to see the adorable twelve-year-old from 10, Brandy, staring up at me in wonder. She looks frightened when I look at her, but she holds her ground. "How … how'd you get the blood on your shirt on Reaping Day?" she asks timidly.

"Oh I …" I remember what Johanna told me – we're going to use her strategy for me. "I'm a healer – a man from my village had an accident and I had to take care of him." She looks incredibly relieved. "So if we get hurt … we should find you?" she asks. And my heart breaks because I know the inevitability of twenty-three of our deaths hasn't sunk in for her yet … and she'll most certainly die for her innocence.

"Yes," I tell her quickly. "Come to me if you can."

"Okay," she says. "What are you doing?" She's so small she can't quite see what's on the table so I pick her up without giving it a thought and start to point out the poisonous plants.

I look up and find the Careers are looking at me like fresh meat – they don't know the true story behind the blood yet but that doesn't matter anymore. I remind myself that's a good thing – I want them to think I'll be an easy target and make me a low priority.

Brandy listens attentively while I explain the plants. "I'm going to practice climbing now," she tells me, and I set her down. I wander over to the weapons, casually taking note of the others. Anthony Stark is talking to Drusa, but judging by the look on her face he's not having any luck with whatever he's trying to sell her. The kids from 12 are staying close together.

I get to the weapons, and sure enough there's an axe. Like Johanna said, it's very different from what I'm used to – the blade is thinner and a slightly different shape, and the handle is longer. I should try to get used to the different balance now. I make sure no one's behind me, and then I swing it a few times. I'm not sure if it feels so awkward in my hands because I haven't cut trees in three years or because it's so different from the axes I've handled – probably both. I decide it might help to aim at something – there's mannequins by the weapons, and I swing it at them, hitting in places that would be fatal if they were real humans. I try picturing some of the Careers as I swing but that makes me sick to my stomach so I stop.

Suddenly I'm very aware that it's gone very quiet – I look up and realize everyone is staring at me. Then I realize I'm the first one besides Drusa to practice with the weapons and question the wisdom of that move. I look at the efficiency with which I "killed" the mannequins, and I understand why even the Careers seem impressed. I definitely screwed up. I set the axe down and move over to the fire starting station, trying to look casual, and I slowly hear the noise pick up again.

"You did what?" Johanna asks, furious, as I recount to her the events of training. I've already showered and changed – none of the clothes they've given me really suit me. I ended up in a white button-down shirt and pants made from a material I can't identify. Calico could probably tell me.

"I … I didn't think about it," I stammer. She's sitting in a chair by my bed, and I'm pacing nervously.

"Tell me something I don't know." I bite back the temptation to pull out a fun fact about the duck-billed platypus. I doubt very seriously she knows what duck-billed platypuses are and even if she does, she won't be amused. "It's fine – it's probably better this way. They know you don't want to kill, and that makes you weak … but you can, and efficiently, if you have to. Which means they won't go after you first thing – they'll go after whatever weak targets survive the bloodbath, and then you. You want it that way, don't you?" I nod. I really don't think I can bring myself to do it any other way – unless the Other Guy decides to help out, which I can't discount as a possibility. I'm sore all over from training. The shower helped but it still hurts. She pushes a button on the nightstand of my bed – a button I didn't even notice. "Cassius – can you get one of those … what you call them? The guys that do the massages?"  
"At this hour? Do you know how much paperwork that will be for me? They don't come cheap!"

"I don't care, Cassius. I want one for my tribute." I know what a massage is in theory but I've never imagined I'd ever have one. I guess she could tell from the way I was carrying myself how sore I still am.

"I don't even know if it's permissible …"

"Cassius, look at the place they built for the tributes. Money is no object. Besides, I know the kids from 1, 2, and 4 get them. If they can have it, I want it for my tribute. That's your job, isn't it? To give everyone equal treatment? Shouldn't a poor lumberjack's son from 7 have the same chance as a child from 1 or 2?" she asks, with a tone that makes me uncertain whether she's genuinely trying to romanticize the words and choking on the attempt or purposely mocking that romanticization of the Games. Actually … knowing Johanna, I know it's the latter.

"Well … I suppose … I'll get right on it," Cassius says, trying to be cheerful.

"Thank you Cassius," she says in a faux-sweet voice and takes her finger off the button. "While we wait … tell me what you saw with the other tributes."

The next morning when I go in, the alliances are very clear. The Careers, except for Drusa, are all in a pack. So are all the twelve-and-thirteen-year-old kids – they rally around the tiny boy from 5, Stephen, who is apparently determined that they'll have the youngest victor ever this year. In that group, the strongest competitor is clearly Rue, the little girl from 11. She can climb like nobody's business and she even manages to steal Cato's knife and send him into a hilariously over-the-top tantrum, which requires the intervention of two of the Peacekeepers who guard us. Since Cato is quickly emerging as a very unlikeable bully – mostly against the younger kids and Peeta, who is possibly in competition with me for biggest wuss in this year's Games – this makes us all laugh. Most everyone else is either training by themselves or with their district partner. Juniper avoids me like the plague if I try to approach her, so I train by myself as well.

Sort of. I find myself following Peeta and Katniss without meaning to.

"So … how'd you get the blood on your shirt?" Peeta asks me cautiously while we practice tying knots. Katniss is already miles ahead of both of us – she's tying an effective looking snare and paying us no heed. I tell him the story with a smile, somewhat thankful Brandy hasn't told everyone.

"Oh," he says, obviously relieved. "We thought – we thought maybe there was a fight or something."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"No it's … would you be in an alliance with us?" he asks.

"If we can find each other … sure," I say, relieved to be in a sort-of alliance. Katniss looks up at Peeta questioningly – I know they haven't discussed this.

"I mean … we might need a healer," Peeta says quickly, explaining more to her than to me.

"Right," Katniss says with a nod, but I can tell she's still unsure. "Well – I think I should go and … look at the fire starting station again," she says awkwardly and leaves. It takes me a minute to realize why – she's trying to avoid Anthony Stark and she thinks Cato and the other Careers will form a more effective barrier than we will.

I know because the fire-starting station is where the Careers are and Anthony finds us just a minute after she leaves. "My coal-mining and lumber-jacking friends," he says fondly and puts his arms around both of us. Peeta looks like he'd rather eat glass than be hugged by this boy.

"Actually, I'm a baker, and he's a healer," Peeta says curtly.

"No kidding?" Anthony asks with a smile. I like him – he's charming and funny, if kind of a jerk. I wish I didn't like him – it seems likely he'll be one of the ones I actually have to fight. "So where's your lady friend, Mellark?"  
"I don't know," Peeta lies badly.

"Anyways … Spruce, Peeta, I've got an offer for both of you guys if you'll meet me after training."

"No thank you," Peeta says roughly.

"I'll see if I can get away from my mentor," I say with a shrug. I don't know what could go wrong – we're heavily monitored everywhere, so it's not like he's going to try to get a head start on killing me.

"Awesome – if you can, right in front of the gym. Anyway … I'm gonna find Katniss. You guys have fun with knots." He leaves us then, and I recognize the jealousy on Peeta's face and I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

"I hate that guy," he mutters bitterly. Anthony's been trying to convince the girls sixteen and over they don't want to die virgins for two days now … I don't know how much success he's had. I want to tell Peeta I don't think Anthony has a chance with Katniss, but I decide to keep my mouth shut.

After a long silence, he speaks again. "Look … if I die before you do … will you promise to try to help Katniss?" he asks. "I know it's a lot to ask." I don't know what to say. Thankfully I don't have to say anything – there's a sound of commotion in the direction of the fire-starting station and Peeta and I both look up to see Anthony on the ground with a hand to a heavily bleeding nose. Peeta and I both laugh – we know exactly what happened.

As soon as I mentioned Anthony having an offer for me to Johanna, she nodded and told me to meet with him. I go to the gym and find him saying goodbye to Glimmer. Passionately. I try to look away. "See you later, Tony," she says in a sultry voice as she walks away. She walks by me and I wave because I have no idea what to do – she glares at me and I put my hands at my side awkwardly.

"Let's uh … let's head up to the roof," Anthony says awkwardly. His hair's all disheveled, apparently from Glimmer running her fingers through his hair while they were kissing. "So there's no Careers around." I shrug and follow him to the elevator – worst-case scenario, he pushes me off the roof and I don't have to kill anyone.

The elevator door opens and we see Haymitch Abernathy – District 12's only living victor, and mentor to both Katniss and Peeta. He looks between Anthony and me, smiles knowingly and pats Anthony on the back as he walks past us. "What was that about?" I ask as the elevator doors close. Anthony gives me a skeptical look, sighs, and explains,

"He thinks you're the one I was kissing." I start to protest I don't look as disheveled, but I know that I do since I haven't showered or anything. Tony doesn't look bothered by the misunderstanding, so I decide I shouldn't be either. So instead I ask him something.

"Do you know about … I mean I'm sure you do but can you tell me some things about radiation?"  
"What about it?" Anthony asks me, looking surprised I know enough to ask. That rubs me the wrong way but I don't say anything about it.

"I just … I've read about it. I get paid in books sometimes," I say, and I'm not sure why that makes me blush. "And it's just … I want to know everything I can before I die." He looks … almost angry at that statement. "I'm sorry, I …"  
"No it's … I don't know what you've read, is all … and we don't have a lot of time."  
"Oh, right," I say, disappointed.

I breathe in the fresh air of the roof, but hesitate to go stand close to the edge. "Come on," Anthony says and pulls me over closer to the edge. I realize the wind's blowing a little bit – so even if there are microphones up here, they won't pick up our voices, and I know whatever he's offering me probably isn't … entirely acceptable to the powers that be.

"Haymitch doesn't think we were making out," Anthony says quickly. "I can't believe he's that careless and I can't believe you're that dense."

"I just …"  
"He knows me, all right? Every time Dad had to mentor a kid from 3, he brought me with him – to remind himself there's good in the world or some crap. Haymitch is always stuck mentoring the kids from 12 since he's alone. When I was a kid I knew him as 'funny man who talks funny and falls down.' Anyway, he's taking me bringing you up here as a good sign – he's hoping my dad has something in mind." I don't know where he's going with this. "Look, I saw how you were with that little girl. What's her name? The little girl from 10?"  
"Brandy."  
He laughs. "You probably know everyone's names, don't you?" Just about … it doesn't seem right to think of killing any of them without knowing their names. All though it might be easier. He leans in really close and drops his voice. "Anyway, here's the point – I want you to take care of as many of the little kids as possible, and keep them together and alive for as long as possible."  
"What's the point?" I ask wearily. "They're all going to die eventually."  
"Maybe not," he whispers. "Maybe there's something … different … planned for the Games this year." In several years past the idea of having two or a group of victors was kicked around, usually as a reward for a productive year in the Districts. It's never actually happened though, and I doubt it will this year.

"I doubt the Capitol will change …"  
"Who said I was talking about the Capitol's plans?" he hisses, almost inaudibly. I know what he's implying and I'm afraid – if I don't run and tattle right now, and they find out I knew and didn't tattle, not only am I dead but anyone I love is dead. I wonder for a moment if this is a test – Anthony could be a Capitol spy. But … I decide to trust him. I think about the possibility of all of the mini-pack (as we've taken to calling it), Katniss and Peeta, Juniper, Calico, Anthony and even me surviving … and I decide not to tattle. Maybe it's a desperate, stupid hope, but I decide to go with it.

"If I can … that's what I'll do," I whisper, and we shake hands.

It's the night before our final scoring and interviews … and I lay awake, far too wired to sleep despite being exhausted.

I think about Anthony's offer – I hope he's telling the truth. I won't really be endangering anyone – in my interview I'll just say I'm buying a nebulizer for my cousin if I win like Johanna said, and if they press me I'll make up a name. If they look into it and find out I don't have any cousins who need a nebulizer they'll think I pulled that out of my ear and leave the Lawsons alone. Or then again for all I know the rebels are going to tranq us all and the Capitol won't know I did anything … that would be best, I think, and seems likely.

Or Tony could be lying. Or delusional. I don't know what he'd have to gain by lying – but that doesn't mean he isn't.

If he is lying, or crazy … I'm right where I started. I feel it's very likely I'll die … or be forced to kill one or more of the mini-pack. Or Katniss. Or Peeta. Or Calico. Or Anthony. And really, I don't want to kill anyone. Not even Cato.

But I don't want to die either. Especially not of thirst, or cold. Or infection.

I wonder if there's such thing as the afterlife. I want to see my mother again. But knowing my luck I've offended some deity without knowing it and I'll be stuck rolling a boulder up a hill with my nose for all eternity*, or worse. Maybe if reincarnation is real, I'll come back as a citizen of the Capitol … I'm not sure if that thought is comforting or terrifying. If there is no afterlife then well … Well I'll never know, will I? I don't know … oblivion sounds sort of peaceful at the moment.

I roll over and turn my pillow over. I set aside question of eschatology and decide to operate in the Games as though I believe Anthony one hundred percent. Even then, I worry – will I be able to find the little kids? Will they trust me? How many of them will die in the bloodbath?

I finally manage to sleep by turning my mind to some pathetically happy fantasy about all of the mini-pack running through fields of flowers and Peeta getting the girl and … I don't even know what I want for myself anymore.

I don't let myself question how we'd get there – I just picture that field of flowers as hard as I can.

**Author's Note**

*For those unfamiliar with Greek mythology, this is the eternal punishment of Sisyphus.

I kind of assume religion is banned in Panem (see the Headscratchers discussion on the subject on tvtropes for the books) but the Capitol couldn't scrub every religious reference in literature and mythology, and I see Spruce as actually being very well-read for someone from the outliers.


	10. Chapter 3-2 (Katniss)

Chapter 3.2

Delaying the Inevitable – Katniss

Like Haymitch says, I don't pick up a bow during training. I already know I can use it, and I won't get any better in the next few days.

Apparently, that's not what Clint's mentor told him. He shows off endlessly – he spends the better part of each day shooting moving targets that move ever faster and faster, until they reach their maximum speed, which is roughly twice as fast as any of us can run, and he's still hitting every target.

Finally, the morning of the last day of training, I get sick of him doing it and I break Haymitch's rule. When he finally sets the bow down, I pick it up, grab a few arrows, and take some practice shots on still targets. It's different from my bow, but I get used to it. I move on to the moving targets, which move slow at first but get faster with each bullseye, and start taking shots. No one's really looking at me – Anthony Stark's made another pass at the girl from 2 and she's beating him badly enough that, for the second time this week, the Peacekeepers have to intervene in an attack by someone from District 2.

Or at least, I think no one's watching me. "Hey, you're pretty good," Clint says to me. He's standing somewhere behind me – not close enough that I feel like I have to punch him like Stark. "You hunt any in District 12?"  
"Hunting is illegal," I say flatly. Which is as good as a yes.

"It's illegal in District 10 too," he says. "What would you shoot, if it wasn't?" I'm annoyed with him so I don't answer. "Deer? Rabbits?"

"I don't know, what is there to shoot in 10?" I ask, wishing he'd quit breaking my concentration – all though I'm still hitting the targets as they climb speeds.

"Coyotes get into sheep and goats … sometimes they even get lucky during calving season. Foxes get into chickens and other fowl. Every now and then you have wolves and cougars make trouble in certain parts. I'm sure ranchers would pay people pretty well for pelts in areas that were having problems," he says vaguely.

"What, no bears?" I ask with a laugh.

"Bears are above my pay grade," he whispers. "And no … they usually get into garbage and stupid people instead. But bear attacks on livestock aren't unheard of." By now the crowd around Drusa and Stark is breaking up, and I quickly put the bow down before anyone sees how well I've done, and I walk away with no other words to Clint.

It doesn't matter – at lunch he confidently seats himself with myself, Peeta and Spruce. The last few days he's been by himself or with Stark. Stark's definitely up to something – he's taken several boys aside to tell them something, including Spruce. When I ask Spruce, he shrugs and acts evasive. I wonder if Stark would tell me if I let him get me alone … but I know he'd have other things on his mind. "So Katniss, here's my thought – they're only give us one bow," Clint says, cutting right to the chase.

"Yeah?" I say skeptically.

"So … you may have noticed we seem to be falling into packs here. The Career pack, the mini pack … maybe we should be the outlier pack. You know, safety in numbers and all that. We could take turns with the bow."

"You can shoot, Katniss?" Spruce asks, surprised. Obviously, if that's his first question, he doesn't mind the idea of another member of our merry crew. Peeta seems to like the idea of having other people allied with us way too much – he smiles and says,

"That's a great idea!" I don't like it. I don't want to be near anyone in the Arena … Either I don't trust them (almost everyone) or I don't want to be the one who kills them (Peeta, Spruce, the little ones). Clint definitely falls in the former category. But it's fine … we probably won't be able to find each other anyway.

I go to the roof. I can breathe up there. Peeta usually follows me – but today I'm alone.

Or so I think.

I only become aware of his presence when he sits on the bench next to me. I almost jump out of my skin. "Hey!" I shout reflexively.

"Hay is for horses," Clint answers back. That would be a cutesy thing to say in 10, wouldn't it?

"You scared me!"

"Obviously," he says dryly.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Peeta said you were up here." Traitor.

"So are you here to talk about this alliance we're supposed to have or …"  
"I just wanted to say … I know you'll kill me if you have to. And it's … it's okay." I'm floored. "My brother … I think he still hears all the people he killed. I mean like … in his dreams … not like he's crazy or anything. And I don't want to be a voice for anyone. I either want to win, or I just want to be dead." I don't know what to say at first – I look around awkwardly. You can't see the stars at night with all the city lights – the Capitol folks don't know what they're missing.

"Are you telling everyone this?" I ask softly, when the silence has grown so awkward I'm compelled to speak.

"No. Because I know the Careers won't care and … I think aside from them, it's you and me, you know? I did tell Anthony."

"You think he'll care?" I ask skeptically. His shoulders stiffen and he grits his teeth. "I mean he volunteered and …"  
"He's crazy, Katniss. He … Never mind."

"What do you mean he's crazy?"  
"He thinks … I don't even know. He wouldn't even really tell me, he just has some crazy idea that … that things will be different this year."

"What do you mean different?"

"He thinks more of us are going to be allowed to survive this year. He told me to try to keep Spruce and Peeta safe until they announce the rule change."

"He is crazy."  
"I know it."

"Yet you came and asked for an alliance with Peeta and Spruce?"  
"He may be crazy … but that doesn't mean I want him to be." I understand.

"I'll help if I can," I say, and finally sit down beside him on the little bench. All though I don't know what I'll do once I get in the Arena. I know if it comes down to us … I can't afford to hesitate.

We sit in silence for a while. "I notice he didn't ask you to keep me alive," I say, a little bitterly.

"I think he knows you'll be okay. He's seen how you scrap," he answers, with the ghost of a smile. We sit there in silence for a little longer – I don't think he's been this quiet since we got here.

"I don't want to be one of your voices either," I tell him at last. I like his attitude – when it's over I want to either be a victor, or I want to just be dead. I'm not terribly interested in being a vengeful ghost or haunting anyone's nightmares.

"Thank you," he says in a whisper so soft and close that his lips almost brush my ear. I find myself sort of wishing they had.

But then I hear the door to the roof open and I move over a little so we're not sitting so close, and I'm not sure why.

It's Peeta – and I'm both glad and annoyed to see him. "So what's the plan?" Peeta asks gravely. We spend the next five minutes discussing plans that will most definitely fall apart when we actually get to the Arena. My heart almost stops when Clint says he's running into the cornucopia to try to get the bow and arrow for us to use. "Please don't," I say before I can stop myself.

"I'll be all right, Kat," he promises me with a hand on my shoulder. I remind myself it'll be a very good thing if he gets killed in the bloodbath – he's dangerous, and now in the category of "people I like enough to hope I'm not the one who kills them."

Looking at him and Peeta at the same time, I know what survival means, but I can't afford to get sentimental.

**Author's Note**

And so, inevitably, we move towards Katniss x Clint. That was hard for me to write since I'm like the captain of the USS Hawkingbird and a hardcore Everlark shipper, but the crossover muses must be amused.


	11. Chapter 3-3 (Drusa)

Chapter 3.3

Delaying the Inevitable – Drusa

Emilianus smiles at me encouragingly. "How was the last day of training?" he asks as he sips wine at the table. He chose me over Cato – he thinks I have a better chance. Coming from him, that's a huge honor.

"It was … satisfactory," I say stiffly. He laughs – he knows the training before the Games is a joke – mostly a warm-up for those of us who've been trained and delaying the inevitable for the other tributes – either one of them will be lucky and win, or they'll all die. "I suppose we should discuss the interview one last time?"  
"About that – I have an idea."

"Oh?"  
"We want sponsors excited about you – and not just because of the amazing score I'm sure you'll get tomorrow." I listen intently … I think I know where he's going. "So … I've already had a word with Caesar. I'm quite certain he'll bring up your father and your sister." My father I expected, but not my sister.  
"But we never speak of …"  
"And you won't this year. As far as the audience will be concerned … you and Clove are the twin daughters born of the tragic love between Aureulius and your mother." I don't like the idea of sweeping Clove's mother so easily from the story … I do remember she was kind to me, and even fought to keep us both in Vinicius's home along with Clove. He, of course, would have preferred to turn us both over to the orphanage. But I'll do whatever Emilianus says. "Also … you'll speak about the tragedy that befell your mother." I feel my heart beat faster but I don't say anything and keep my face blank. "I know it's difficult to think about," he says, but doesn't seem very sympathetic. He's not a sympathetic man.

"Yes. But I will. I assume you're trying to engineer a rivalry between myself and the girl from 12?"  
"You are far more intelligent than your district partner, Drusa," he says with a smile.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Emilianus is exactly how you think he is, Marvel fans.


	12. Chapter 4 Circuses Once More (Spruce)

Chapter 4

Circuses, Once More

They line us up for the interviews. I look behind me and notice Seeder from District 11 give Rue a big hug and Maria from 10 holding Brandy's hand. I know better than to expect such comfort from Johanna. She stands by me with her arms crossed, looking straight ahead. She's not happy with me – I got a score of eight. The same as Peeta. Katniss and Drusa both managed an 11 – the only time in history both the top-scoring tributes have been women. Clint scored high with a 10 – the same as Cato from 1, and his brother two years before Johanna. The lowest score went to Brandy – a pitiful 2. Stephen and the minis from 6 barely did better with a 4. I'm sure hardly anyone's going to sponsor them … which worries me because Stephen has asthma, judging by how he wheezed if he exerted himself during training, and he'll need medicine. I know that, barring the vague plan Tony hinted at, they're going to die … but I don't like the thought of him slowly choking to death as his airway closes … or the kids starving to death or dying of thirst, for that matter. Besides … if Tony's not crazy, and not lying …

I've got to try to find them, once the bloodbath is over. But first, I need to get an axe. If Cato comes after us and I'm unarmed I'll be useless – even if the Other Guy makes an appearance.

But for now, I've got to smile and be charming.

Drusa's interview is the first interesting one. She's cool and collected, and in a short black dress with her hair done nicely, she's very alluring. Apparently she's the daughter of a previous tribute who did very well … I'm sure the odds on her just got even shorter. Caesar Flickerman is his usual self – the kind of man who draws out your deepest secrets in front of everyone. Which he does. "So there's your mother, widowed at eighteen, and pregnant with twins. I imagine that was very hard – growing up without your father."

"It was, but our mother raised us to be strong, even when she had to leave us behind."  
"Yes – your mother served as a Peacekeeper, is that correct?"

"Yes – we stayed with our aunt while she was on a long tour. We counted down the days until she came home …" She hesitates for the first time and I realize we're all hanging on her every word. "She was killed in the line of duty trying to calm a coal miner rebellion in District 12." The audience makes little sounds of sympathy – I force myself not to glance at Katniss and Peeta even though I'm curious about their reaction. "Honestly, I try not to dwell on the pain – I just want to honor my parents' legacy. I'm going to win – for them, and give my sister every opportunity to do the same next year or the year after." Everyone cheers and applauds her as Caesar says her name once more – the first standing ovation of the night.

Anthony is the next to win a standing ovation – he's funny and charming, and makes the whole audience chuckle. He looks good in a suit – certainly better than any of the other boys, myself included. He notes that he thinks brains will win out over brawn, and he mentions the girl from 3 who won seventeen years ago – the one who killed Drusa's father. I wonder if he's trying to get himself killed – I glance back at the kids who've already talked and I see Drusa glaring daggers at him. Johanna rolls her eyes. "Always the drama with victors' kids …" Or victor's son and fallen tribute's daughter in this case. I wonder if the drama will thicken when they get to Clint.

Shale, the girl from 5, echoes Tony's message of brains over brawn – she says she'll win by using strategy. Stephen is brave and determined – he says the minis are going to band together and use each other's skills to get through the Games.

Track and Levy, the children from 6, seem to know they don't stand much of a chance – they seem very nervous and they look like they want to just leave and cry, all though Caesar gets some interesting moments from them.

Juniper says she's eager to get back to her parents and siblings, to see her niece or nephew who's supposed to be born in two months. She's currently apprenticed to a carpenter, and she knows how to use saws and hammers. And then it's my turn.

I make my way onstage, trying not to look stiff or awkward. I'm in a fairly plain gray suit – Felicia said it'll make me look older, more scholarly. I shake hands with Caesar and try to smile as I take a seat. We chat about how I like the Capitol – I lie and say it's beautiful. I make sure to mention the name of the eye doctor and his frame shop, just like I promised. "So, I think the question on everyone's minds, Spruce, is – what exactly happened to you on Reaping Day?"  
"Right to the chase, I see," I say, trying to smile. "It's not as interesting as you might think, I'm afraid."  
"Try us," Caesar says genially.

"I work as a healer, and, well … torn veins don't care that it's Reaping Day. They can be inconsiderate that way." Everyone laughs and I'm surprised at the positive response. "The blood was from a lumberjack who was accidentally struck with a saw. I barely finished stitching in time to get to the Reaping – I didn't have time to change or wash up."

"Of course. So, as a healer … what advantages do you think you have?"  
"Well I … I imagine that'll be a good bargaining chip for alliances. Plus … I know what a fatal injury is, and I've spent a lot of time familiarizing myself with plant life while looking for herbs to use in medicine."

"Of course. So if you win – do you have any big plans for your life?"  
"Well I … I want to get a nebulizer for my little cousin." Everyone laughs at my little dream, and rather than let it hurt my feelings I risk saying something else. "If it would be permissible, I'd like to go to medical school … be a real doctor." I'm careful to phrase it that way so I don't seem uppity or rebellious in any way … and it galls me to realize how low I'm bowing for a government that's going to kill me. But I smile shyly and pretend I don't mind.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out for you," Caesar says kindly. "But you have to win first."  
"Of course," I say, forcing a smile and determinedly not thinking about what that means.

"Well, Spruce, may the odds be ever in your favor," he says and shakes my hand. I've never heard that phrase said so genuinely before. I don't get a standing ovation.

Calico mentions her older brother, and how she'll do her best so he won't worry as much – even after a week of eating well, she's still dangerously thin, but the poofy dress they put her in hides it well. I know 8 is dirt poor, maybe even poorer than 12, and I know she wants to win just so she and her family can have enough to eat. When you get down to it … that's the dream most of us have, beyond basic survival.

Brandy is heartbreakingly innocent. She's the same age as Rue and Stephen, but acts so much younger … I suspect she's the baby of her family, and also possibly disabled – that's not at all uncommon, and it doesn't disqualify kids from the Reaping. She says she's going to win with the other minis and Caesar doesn't correct her – we all doubt very seriously she'll live long enough for it to be a serious issue. And maybe, just maybe, even Flickerman wants to see her innocence preserved for just a while longer. For all I know that makes it more thrilling to watch her die.

When Clint goes on stage they pull up pictures of him as a cute twelve-year-old boy running into his seventeen-year-old brother's arms the year his brother won – everyone laughs and Clint acts embarrassed. But in the sequence of pictures, I see the emptiness in his brother's eyes – how he seems to get a little bit of soul back as he holds his little brother tight, and I know Clint sees it too. But he plays it off well. He smiles – a more polished, less sincere version of the big grin he wore as a twelve-year-old welcoming his brother back to District 10. "In the last moments before you boarded a train to the Capitol, did your brother have any advice for you?"  
"He told me not to get cocky," Clint says, in a very cocky way, and the crowd laughs. Of course they do.

"Of course … people are quick to point out the similarities between Katniss Everdeen and your brother." That's right … I'd forgotten that. Clint got reaped first, and his brother volunteered. Clint's luck is horrible. Assuming it is luck – I've always wondered if the Reapings are sometimes rigged.

"Well … it is the same, in a lot of ways. I … I honestly wish Katniss the best of luck," Clint says, and he seems to mean it.

Rue reinforces everything Stephen said – and talks about her own skills. She's the only one of the mini-pack with even the ghost of a shot, and even then the odds on her are very, very long, and everyone knows it. Thresh, the huge boy from 11, is defiant and cold. His answers are all short and curt – but he radiates power, with his enormous chest, broad shoulders, and massive height, so no one will call him on it. He can be surly and air his contempt for the audience and he'll still get tons of sponsors. I envy him – but then again, even if I had the physical power to justify surliness I'd probably still be as shy and nervous as I was all along. It's just who I am.

And then … Katniss. She's been so strong and stoic during training that I'm surprised to see her smile and twirl for the Capitol audience – and her dress sparkles with jewels that make it look like she's caught fire once again. I wonder if this is another side to her, brought out by Flickerman's skill as an interviewer, or if it's an act.

When she comes backstage with the rest of us afterwards I start to say something to her but Johanna puts a hand on my arm. I don't want to get told to take a cold shower again – especially since Katniss would probably hear her say it – so I look away to Peeta making his way onstage.

Peeta does an exceptionally good job with his interview … he seems more confident than he has all week. It's all lighthearted and funny for him – he talks about how the showers are so different at the Capitol. I'm glad Caesar didn't ask me about that – I would have blurted out I'd never actually used a shower before and _really _looked like a hick. Caesar seems to be asking Peeta a lot of questions I'm glad I didn't get – he asks if there's a girl at home. If he'd asked me, I would have turned bright red thinking about what Felicia's assistant said and my own inexperience. Peeta doesn't seem to like the question either – he tries to hedge. But Caesar presses on, and Peeta says, "Well … there is a girl. But I don't think she even knew who I was until Reaping Day." It confirms what I've thought all along, and my heart sinks for him. I look over at the other tributes, and all the girls (except Katniss) and most of the boys seem to know exactly where he's going with this. And even Katniss suspects at this point I think – she stares at him, looking like she dreads the next thing to come out of his mouth. Unfortunately, Caesar doesn't guess – how could he? He hasn't been in training with us.

"Well, I'll tell you what, Peeta, you win these Games, and she'll have to go out with you."

"I don't think that'll help."  
"Well why not?"  
"She came here with me," Peeta says, and you can hear the heartbreak in his voice. There are gasps and little "awww"s from the Capitol audience … they eat it up. All of us look to Katniss at once – she looks horrified and maybe even humiliated. Behind her shoulder, Drusa looks irritated – whatever drama she was trying to make between herself and Katniss and Anthony, has been dramatically overshadowed. Peeta gets the final standing ovation of the night – and all our mentors hurry us away to clear a path for Katniss and Peeta's … whatever's about to happen.

As soon as we're safely in the elevator, along with a pack of other tributes and mentors, Johanna begins cursing the most recent turn of events. Marty echoes her cursing, as does Chaff from 11. Tide, one of the mentors from 4, echoes it and makes it much saltier. Thankfully, I was covering Brandy's ears. Marty curses at me for that – he yells at me every time he sees me being anything less than homicidal towards the other tributes. Which is all the time. "So … what does that mean for us?" Thresh asks. "I'm guessing it ain't good."

"They'll manipulate the game to keep those two in as long as possible – they're gonna want the drama of Peeta dying in her arms," Tide says. Only he says it with … more additives. I don't question why he assumes Peeta will die first.

The fear hits me as soon as I walk into my bedroom. Johanna's followed me to the door –she seems to be anticipating this. I only thought I was scared the night before. As soon as I'm in the bedroom, it sinks in that this is my last night in this room – quite possibly my last night ever. Especially since I know I have to run into the bloodbath – I'm going to be wandering the Arena defenseless if I don't. I start to shake, and Johanna opens the door as though she can hear me panicking. "It's okay," she says, more comforting than ever, and hugs me. "It's okay. You're going to need some sleep …" As soon as she says it I know I can't. Before I can even say anything, she takes something from her pocket. A couple of pills. "Here. Don't take it until you've already changed for bed – it'll knock you right out."

"But in the morning …"  
"If you get in bed now, you'll be wide awake at least an hour before the Games start."

"Are you sure?"  
"Trust me – they work fine," Johanna says, and I know from her tone she takes them a lot. It might be the only way she _can_ sleep. I've heard rumors about what happened to her family after the Games, and I don't know who she made mad but on the off chance I survive the Games I don't want to repeat her mistake. All though – who would they target? The entire village of Muleshoe seems like a rather broad net, even for the Capitol.

But thinking about that doesn't help … even if I survive, it won't be over. It'll never be over. I start to panic even more.

She puts both hands on either side of my face and looks me in the eyes. "You're going to be okay, you understand me? You're going to do everything we talked about, and you're going to win this one for 7, okay?"

"Okay," I answer, even though I don't believe it.

"Get some sleep," she says gently, and leaves me alone.

I sob as I change into the soft shirt and shorts I've been wearing to sleep, and I'm ashamed of myself because I'm seventeen and I shouldn't be such a coward. I wonder if the mentors of the little ones have to spend all night trying to calm them down. Maybe that's why so many of them are drunks or addicts … as if the Games aren't enough, they have to deal with that every few years. Or every year, in the case of districts without many victors to choose from for mentors.

I slide into bed, and down Johanna's pills with water from the glass by my bed. They work just like she said, and I'm not aware of anything until the next morning.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I decided not to try to transcribe dialogue from the movie or book because I figure different narrators would remember things slightly differently, especially conversations, so I did it straight from my memory. I've watched the movie three times while writing this, looked up passages in the book, and practically lived on the Hunger Games wiki trying to make everything else as accurate as possible, and I'm really sorry if I screwed something up anyway.

Also it may take me a while to get this posted here on but this story is actually done – if you want to keep reading after this point, the rest of it is on deviantart. This chapter: art/Something-to-Avenge-Chapter-4-370343575


	13. Chapter 4-2 (Gale)

Chapter 4.2

Circuses Once More – Gale

The Capitol audience seems to love it when Peeta says he's been in love with Katniss all this time. Posey does too – she gasps and cheers, not quite understanding what a tragic circumstance it really is. But she's four. I don't know what to feel – I can't be mad at him for it. He'll be dead or … I don't think about the other possibility. Either way it's too late, and the Capitol may be eating it up but he looks like an idiot. Maybe we're both idiots – I never said anything either.

I should have gone with her. I would have kept my mouth shut, and I'd be more useful. What's Peeta gonna do? Well, I guess he could bake poisonous cakes for everyone and get rid of a couple of the stupid ones, if they gave him an oven.

But as much as I try to laugh at the mental image of Peeta: Warrior Baker, it doesn't change the fact that in less than twenty-four hours, the Games will start. I know Katniss is strong … but I still worry.

I want to leave for the woods, my safe haven, but Posey insists that her bedtime story (she was allowed to stay up late to watch Katniss on television) come from me. I tuck her in the middle of the bed and sit on the edge. I try to tell her about some old stories about animals I heard one time, but she insists on hearing the "family history" for the five hundredth time. "You know that one, Posey," I say.

"But I want to hear it again," she says. "Even though it makes me sad." I sigh, and I recount the old story my grandmother used to tell before she passed away. I believed it when I was little too – I had to.

"It's said that there's a world, somewhere far beyond our stars, called Asgard, that is home to the gods. These gods could travel to other worlds, including ours, across a rainbow bridge." She really likes this part – I'm not sure why. It's just the exposition.

"A rainbow bridge!" she repeats excitedly, but with a twinge of sadness.

"Now the gods had been at war with the giants for a long time, but had finally made peace. But Thor, the son of the gods' king, was arrogant and reckless."  
"I don't like this part, even though it leads to something good," Posey interjects.

"I'll skip it then," I say with a smile.

"No! I have to hear it all – it's my story."  
"Very well, my lady," I say, putting on my "Thor voice," and she giggles. "Thor, convinced by his brother Loki …" She makes a little "booing" sound at Loki's name. "Led his friends to the giants' world, and almost started the war anew. Odin, king of the gods, arrived in time to stop this and rescue the ones who had traveled to the giants' world. But, given the magnitude of …"  
"What's magnitude?" She's never asked before. I'm not sure how to explain it.  
"It … it means something is a lot of something. Like what Thor did almost started a war, so it was a really reckless thing to do that could have had very bad consequences. So he had his powers taken and was cast out of Asgard to Earth, to learn humility and caution."

"What's humility?" She's full of questions tonight.

"The opposite of arrogant." I wait to see if she asks what arrogant is – she doesn't.

"But Odin threw Thor's hammer to Earth with him, so that when he had learned his lesson, he could lift the hammer and regain his powers, and return home. On Earth there was a beautiful scientist named Jane, who studied the stars. Naturally, when Thor fell from the sky, she had a lot of questions for him." Posey laughs, and I'm not sure why that's funny. "At first, Thor continued in his arrogant ways, and Jane cared only for finding her answers. Eventually, though, they began to soften, and learned to care for each other."

"Until Loki messed everything up!" Posey says bitterly.

"You sure you want to hear the rest? You already know it so well," I tease.

"Yes! Go on!"

"Yes. While Thor was banished, his father fell into a deep sleep – as he often needed to do to maintain his strength, and with Thor gone, Loki ruled in his stead. Loki decided to do what Thor could not, and kill all of the giants by keeping the gates to the rainbow bridge open for too long." Posey doesn't question the mechanics of this … I was much older than her when I did. "But he knew that, should Thor regain his powers, he would be a hindrance to that plan – so he sent a mechanical monster to kill his own brother. Thor, though powerless and mortal, stood between the monster and Jane, sacrificing himself to keep it from harming her. For this brave action, his powers, and his hammer, were returned to him." This is Posey's favorite part. "The hammer flew through the air and into his hand, and with it Thor was able to destroy the machine. He returned home to confront his brother, only to find him already at work destroying the giants' world. In order to save them, Thor had to destroy the rainbow bridge, even though it meant separating himself from Jane." Posey sighs dramatically. "Loki was captured and imprisoned, and the gods began work on the rainbow bridge, but it would take centuries to repair. Thor thought Earth was lost to him. But as wars raged on Earth, it became very clear that Earth needed a protector – and Odin used a lot of magic called 'dark energy' to send his son to Earth once more, but there was only enough for one trip."  
"Why can't the king of the gods do more?" Posey asks. I don't know either so I shake my head and shrug.

"So Thor did good where he could, and eventually married Jane. All was well."  
"Until Loki messed it up again!"

"Exactly. Loki escaped his prison and came to Earth, seeking revenge on his brother for foiling his plans …"  
"How come Loki didn't need dark energy to come to Earth?" she asks, brows furrowed.

"I don't know," I answer honestly, amused she's noticed the two big plot holes of the "family history" at a much earlier age than I did. Clearly she's the smart one of the family. "But he came to Earth, and began subtly influencing the governments of the world, and doing other damage no one traced back to him. It took some time for Thor to even realize his brother was on Earth. By this time, Jane was with child." We'd already explained, several tellings ago, that with child was a fancy old-fashioned way of saying pregnant, which had already been explained meant there was a baby growing in the Mommy's tummy.

"Grandma!" she yells, excited. But her eyes are heavy, and she's starting to nod off. I almost decide not to tell her the rest, because I'm afraid she'll have bad dreams. But the hopeful part is right at the end, and she needs that.

"Thor and Loki warred, and much was destroyed. In the end, though, Thor won out."  
"Good always wins," Posey says, and I wish, I wish so desperately, that that was true.

"He could force his brother to return them home once more, but he knew his father didn't have enough dark energy to send him back, and it would still be at least a century until the rainbow bridge was repaired. He knew that his brother had already unleashed terrible things on the world, and he knew that if he returned to Asgard, he would never see his unborn daughter. But he also knew that Loki could not be allowed to remain on Earth, because no prison on Earth could hold him."

"No prison on Asgard either, I guess," Posey says snidely, and I laugh out loud.

"I guess not. But Loki hasn't returned – so I guess they learned their lesson." That's good enough for her, for now. "So Thor returned home, leaving the world he loved and fought for and his beloved wife behind." Posey cries a little bit – she always does, no matter how many times she hears it. "But … it's been over a hundred years. The rainbow bridge could be finished at any moment." She smiles at the thought – I always did too, when I was little.

"Maybe he'll come save us this year," she says, and finally closes her eyes.

"Maybe," I say, and lean forward to kiss her forehead. I don't feel bad giving her hope, no matter how false it is – she's little. She needs it, and it's real enough to her.

And maybe, just maybe, part of me believes it too.

I really wish, if he was coming back, he'd come back tonight.

**Author's Note**

Substantial liberties taken with what actually happened due to Posey's age, obviously. We're finally getting some more Marvel Cinematic Universe up in this story, yay!

I have fun pointing out the plotholes with the whole dark energy thing. (To be fair I point out the hole in my part too.) They uh … they really kind of rushed getting Thor back to Earth for the _Avengers _movie. We really could have spent, like, two more sentences explaining it. And yes, I know dark energy is very real, but seriously they made it sound like magic in the movie. And one of the few things I disliked about the Thor movie was the whole "where I come from, magic and technology are the same" thing. Bullcrap – it's magic. Just call it magic. It's okay to call it magic, guys – in fact, calling it magic makes it easier to explain than trying to force it to be "science fiction," when it is very clearly magic (Loki being able to do magic without being a cyborg being the massive sticking point on that). So I'm calling it magic.

So how exactly was everybody born like a hundred and fifty years later (more for Steve) than they were supposed to be except Jane, why did Loki not let go of Gungnir, and why did Odin send Thor back before Loki started wreaking havoc in this timeline? Um … clearly someone made a deal with Mephisto, lol.

No actually it's a completely arbitrary decision made by me because the whole genesis of this story idea was the fact I couldn't get over Liam Hemsworth's familial resemblance to his brother Chris and half-expected Thor to come break up these Hunger Game shenanigans every time I saw Gale in the movie. I'm fully aware of how stupid that is.


	14. Chapter 4-3 (Stephen)

Chapter 4.3

The Night Before – Stephen

Almost all of us are from big families – I think I'm the only one who's not. But even I remember sleeping between my parents most nights when they were alive. So it only feels natural to us to sleep all tangled up in a big pile of kids. For some reason, though, it made Seeder cry when she found us like this yesterday morning – and even Electra got teary-eyed when she came looking for me and found out where I slept.

We've been over our strategy over and over again – we grab backpacks from the edge, and run in whatever direction is the direct opposite from the mouth of the cornucopia. In theory that'll put us all in roughly the same direction, and we should be able to find each other. We find water. We gather plants, and we set snares to catch birds and such. We sleep in the trees at night – Brandy was worried they could set fire to the trees and burn us all to death, but she asked Juniper from 7 and she says living trees are hard to burn, so sleeping in trees is still a go. Where necessary, we set ambush attacks on the Careers. Above all else, we keep moving. I don't tell them I'm looking to get us to the edge of the Arena – no one's ever escaped, but I'm holding on to hope we might be the first, even as slim as it is they'll let that happen.

It's a lot more likely we're going to be forced to see this through to the bitter end. "Are you scared, Rue?" I ask the girl on my right. She's still awake. Brandy fell asleep pretty quickly, and Track and Levy dropped off not long ago.

"No," she lies badly. She's got her brothers and sisters to think about.

"Me either," I lie badly.

We don't say anything else to each other, and eventually we both fall into an uneasy sleep filled with formless nightmares.


	15. Chapter 5: Bloodbath (Spruce)

Chapter 5

Bloodbath

Spruce

The mute servant who's been assigned to take care of me wakes me up gently – he doesn't let Johanna come in and yell at me. All though I don't think even Johanna would yell at me today. I'm shaking so bad I can't really dress myself – he seems to have anticipated this, and he stays, even though he only helps when I sheepishly ask. I wonder what he did, or supposedly did, that got him stuck with this fate but of course I'm not allowed to ask. I've been neat and tidy all this time, trying not to make extra work for him, and I've hardly seen him – but he seems kind, even though he can't speak. He gives me a hug, and I try not to cry.

He takes me down to breakfast and I force myself to eat even though I know I'll probably throw it up. Juniper is as silent as me – as are Marty and Johanna. 7 has more winners than most of the outliers, but we still lose most of the time. I wonder exactly how many tributes Marty's lost. Cassius is the only one who talks – he goes on and on about how excited we must be, apparently unable to read our faces at all. Finally, Johanna tells him to shut up, and we're all grateful.

It's time to leave, and Marty pats me on the head before he leaves. It's more affection than I ever expected from him and I have to pretend there's something in my eye.

Johanna and I don't say a word as she takes me to be transported to the Arena. I don't think she knows what to say … I don't either. There's a terrible silence between us until at last, I say, "Johanna I just want to say … even if I don't make it …"  
"No, don't thank me yet," she cuts me off. "Thank me when you're about to go onstage for your victory interview." She hands me off to the Peacekeepers who are going to escort us to the Arena, and turns her head because she thinks I didn't already notice her eyes are wet.

We fly somewhere in a hovercraft. We all look at each other – this is our last moment of peace. Tony manages to crack a couple of jokes and keep things as light as they can be. It doesn't change the fact we're about to be set loose to kill each other. Some Peacekeepers come by and inject us with something under the skin on our forearms – I assume it's a tracking device. Brandy cries when they inject her – of course she does.

They lead us into these tunnels and I can't stand to look at anyone else. I'm shaking very hard, and it's all I can do to not break down into tears again. I find myself in a cold, gray room that seems to be underground. Felicia's there – she won't look at me. There's a change of clothes waiting for me on a little table – I change quickly and quietly. They give everyone what's basically a uniform – a light green shirt made of a heavy material, a thin black jacket, brown pants, and heavy leather boots with good, gripping soles. I don't have a token of any kind – I wear that on the skin of my upper right arm – but Johanna apparently gave Felicia the knit cap I wore on Reaping Day. It's old and smelly and I didn't know I liked it so much until this moment – I won't need it unless it's cold, so I tuck it into one of the pants' generous pockets. I stand there shaking, and I desperately want her to say something to me. And then I realize she can't – there are tears in her eyes. I don't know what to say.

The Peacekeepers tell me it's time to go. I take a deep breath and follow them. "Take care of yourself," Felicia says, still not looking at me. It sounds more sincere than the "May the odds be ever in your favor," I was expecting.

I shake and close my eyes as I feel myself being raised into the Arena on a platform. There's a loud, mechanical sounding voice counting down from 50. The platform comes to a stop and I force myself to open my eyes.

I almost cry in relief.

It's a forest. It's not quite like my forest – but it's a forest.

I look at the cornucopia, scanning for an axe. I think I see something that might be one.

The panic comes roaring back – I almost step off the platform, just to end the suspense.

But then I remember the world's watching, and I don't want to be that idiot (there's one every few years), and pride wins out over cowardice. I just shake and listen, planning to run as hard as I can and hope against hope I get there before the Careers. I look around to find out who's close to me. Cato's directly on my right, and Doyle, the boy from 4 is on my left – in my head I curse the Gamemakers roundly. The Other Guy growls at them – I just barely manage to keep that growl from escaping my lips.

We reach the end of the countdown. Time to go.

I don't look at anyone else as I run. I hear the others running beside me but I don't let it worry me, not until we get into the part with weapons – then I worry. But Cato turns off to find something to his liking, and apparently I'm a hell of a lot faster than Doyle because he sounds like he's at least fifteen feet behind me. I jump over things, single-mindedly pursuing the axe. Sure enough, the good vision lent to me by the glasses didn't lead me astray – my hand finds the handle of the axe and I get ready to run the other direction now. I hear screaming, struggling, and the cannon fire that means the deaths have started, but none of it's near me. I change direction – grabbing a promising looking backpack with the hand that's not holding the axe as I do, and almost run into Doyle. I'd run right past but he's grabbing a spear from the ground and I know he's planning to use it on me. I act before he can regain his balance – I swing the axe at his throat. Not the chest or the abdomen, because I don't want to waste time pulling it out, and I don't want him to suffer more than he has to. I'm showered with blood, but at the moment all that matters is that I keep running. No one else is near me, and if I get into the cover of the woods I can find safety from the ranged weapons. Someone fires an arrow at me – and since it misses I know it's not Clint that got hold of it – he was able to shoot targets moving a whole lot faster than me in the training center.

I break into the tree line and keep running until my legs won't carry me anymore, which is actually a very good distance into the woods. I fall to the ground, and take a long look around and try to listen over my own heavy breathing to make sure I'm alone. Then I almost laugh – I'm alive. I killed a Career – me. The odds just got shorter for me – didn't they?

Then I start to shake really violently and I feel very sick to my stomach. I stumble into the nearest bushes and vomit. I killed someone. I'm covered in his blood. His name was Doyle … and he was just a kid like me, only with better training. I can't even blame the Other Guy – I was completely in control. I decided to kill him. And I almost laughed about it. Blood's never bothered me before, but all I can think about is getting Doyle's blood off me. I find the nearest leaves that aren't poisonous, and I start desperately rubbing my face, hands, shirt, and weapon with them … but of course it doesn't work very well. I clean my glasses on a not-bloody part of my shirt. I manage not to cry – I just got shortened odds on myself, I can't afford a meltdown. And I can't be distracted. I have to find the minis, but I don't want it to look like I'm looking for them. And before I even begin to look for them, I need to be practical for myself.

I open the backpack – I have a sleeping bag with some ropes (good, I can sleep in the trees), some dry rations that look really horrible, a canteen of water that won't last very long even if there's anything in it, a box of matches, a hunting knife, and most exciting for me, some gauzy bandages. I pop open the canteen – and wonder of wonders, it has water in it. Cool, wonderful water that I drink greedily to sate the thirst I worked up running and wash the acid taste of vomit from my mouth. On top of everything I have, I hear the ding of a parachute – I look up and see it is indeed, coming towards me. I catch it, and tear it open, amazed I'm getting something this early. I tear it open to find two things for which I'm immensely grateful – glasses just like the ones I'm wearing (I trade them out immediately and leave the ones smeared with blood in the bushes), and a spile. I can use it to get water from the trees when the water from my canteen runs out, which means I don't have to be a in a hurry to find the nearest stream (all though I want to just to wash the blood off, and I figure the minis will be there) and I can afford to approach with extra caution. I might even be able to get sap from some of the trees – just straight sap will probably make me sick but if it's that or starve it'll be worth it. I read the note that came with it. "First sponsor was on the fence – until he saw how you did. Try not to peak too early. – J." Yeah … peaking.

I decide I might as well keep moving – the minis aren't going to find themselves.

* * *

**Author's Note**

So I really couldn't think of a good way to work this into the story itself, but I picture Felicia as having a son Spruce's age, so it's impossible for her to completely dehumanize this sweet boy who loved his mother, the way she usually would her tributes.

I made his backpack so much better than Katniss's because I figure they put the good backpacks in the center along with the more general supplies and weapons and they put all the crappy backpacks with empty water bottles on the outside of the ring.

From now on I'm going to be doing a more linear narrative – no more side chapters.


	16. Chapter 6: Into the Woods (Rue)

Chapter 6

Into the Woods

Rue

I help Stephen into the tree – there's not a lot of trees to climb in District 5, and he's not old enough to climb the big electric poles. He practiced during training, but he's not as fast as me. We're the only two of our alliance to make it into the woods – I cry a little bit as I remember Levy and Track. I hate Cato – I hate the way he smiled as he swung his sword into Levy while she was already on the ground. I hate Drusa for throwing knives at Track while he was running – she's one of the best in the Games, and she killed him while his back was turned? I've never hated anyone in my life – not even when people pushed me around or tried to cheat me while I bought food for my brothers and sisters. But I hate them, and I don't like the feeling. We saw Anthony Stark grab Brandy, but we won't know if he hurt her or not until tonight when they show the dead tributes – if he killed Brandy off in the woods somewhere like a coward, I'll hate him too.

We've heard ten cannons so far … they've finally stopped.

Stephen's breathing all funny again and it scares me to death because I don't want him to die too. I don't ask if he's okay because every time I asked in training he shrugged off the question. "You okay, Rue?" he asks through a wheezing breath.

"I'm fine," I say. "We should check our backpacks."

"Good idea." We check our backpacks – between us we have two empty water bottles, one sleeping bag, two loaves of bread, and one rope. I really feel like we got cheated, but we can share the sleeping bag if it gets too cold and the rope is long enough to belt us both into the tree. It's the fact the water bottles are empty that's most disappointing.

"We need to find water," I say gravely. That means we're going to probably be in the same place as the Careers.

"I know, just let me catch my breath," he says. I know that might take a while.

While we wait, the Careers (all except Drusa and Doyle) walk right under us, and I'm very grateful for the fact we had to wait on Stephen to catch his breath. They're laughing and talking so loudly they don't hear Stephen's breathing. I'm disappointed I don't have a rock to drop on their heads. Glimmer has the bow that was obviously meant for Clint – I wonder how long it'll be before he comes after it. Peeta's with them – which makes no sense to me, until he insists he saw Katniss come this way when I saw Katniss run in almost the exact opposite direction. Stephen and I exchange a significant look – we know he's a brave saboteur, trying to give the girl he loves a shot to go home. "Wait, look," Stephen whispers and points. I can just see Drusa following along in the underbrush, her face painted in camouflage colors. She must be going after the Careers.

Not long after the Careers go by, Clint and Katniss follow – Clint must be tailing them to get the bow. I'm glad they found each other, and I hope Clint gets the bow.

When Stephen's breathing normal again and we're really sure they're gone, we climb down from the tree and move along as quietly as we can. I have no idea if we're heading in the right direction or not, but we have to do something.


	17. Chapter 7: Box of Scraps (Tony)

Chapter 7

Box of Scraps

Tony

I panic when I see the little girl next to me. As soon as we get down to zero, I reach out and grab her arm. She screams when I do, but I take off running, pulling her along. "Clint told me to get you!" I yell, thinking of a lie on the fly. I know she's allied with the other little ones but I've seen how she gravitates toward the older kids, expecting them to look out for her, and I know she'll buy it. That's another reason I had to get her – I knew she'd trust the older kids even when she shouldn't. She follows me then, and we take off. Dad can't send me anything directly, but there's no law that says he can't give someone the money and an extra twenty coin to send me whatever I need. I don't even try to get anything from the cornucopia.

I'm deep in the woods and I start to panic because I hate nature. The kids from the outlying districts are probably thrilled. Then I remember why I'm here and I calm down. I need to find a good place for a base of operations – somewhere hidden where I can build, relatively undisturbed. They always give the tributes caves and things of that nature, and I just need to find one. They always put them fairly close to the cornucopia and other important places like the river, so I shouldn't have to go far. I remember everything I've learned since I decided to volunteer about how to find caves in different kinds of terrain.

"Where's Clint?" the little girl asks me suspiciously.

"He said he was going to hunt the Careers, and for me to watch you while he does," I say.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"He knows I was with the minis … why'd he ask you to take care of me?"  
"I don't know. Guess he trusts me more," I say, trying to shut her up, but I know it's not long before she realizes I'm lying.

She tries to bolt – I chase after her. I tackle her and pin her down. She screams, and I put my hand over her mouth to shut her up and lay there, prone, listening for the sounds of anyone else drawn by her screaming. "Listen to me, Brandy," I say, finally remembering her name. "I'm _not_ going to hurt you, you understand?" I try to think of a lie she'll believe … and I decide honesty's better. "You're my bait."  
"Bait?" she asks tearfully when I take my hand from her mouth.

"Yeah. You want to hunt for predators, you've gotta have live bait. You, little darling, are my bait." She opens her mouth to scream again and I cover it again. "So … I'm not gonna hurt you, and I'm not going to let you be hurt until all my predators are caught – you understand? Half your mini-pack is dead, and the other half's long gone. If you want to live for any length of time, you're gonna shut up and do what I say, you understand?" She nods, tearfully, and I slowly take my hand off her mouth. She screams again, and I put my hand over her mouth. I am already regretting taking her with me. But if I let her go now I won't find her again. "You do that again, and I will knock you out," I say sharply. "I said I don't want to hurt you and I mean that – but I will if I have to. Do you understand?" She nods. "Okay, I am taking my hand off your mouth – if you scream I will choke you until you pass out." She nods again, and I take my hand off. Thankfully she doesn't scream. Unfortunately, she does knee me in the nuts and try to take off. Fortunately, I basically collapse on top of her and I'm too heavy for her to lift. I know because she tries really desperately, thankfully without screaming.

I've always wondered how Dad could bring himself to kill all the people he had to kill to win. I am slowly beginning to understand.

As I recover, I take hold of her arm with one hand and slowly get up with the other. "If you do that again, I will be forced to hurt you," I say in the most threatening voice I can muster, and she doesn't try anything else as we go along.

"What are we doing?" is Brandy's favorite question. She asks me dozens of times while we're walking. I always tell her to hush – I don't want to explain it in case she does get away from me and runs into someone else, and I want to listen for other tributes.

We come to a river, and stop to drink from it. Then we walk along it, with me keeping my ears very carefully straining for any sound that might signal the presence of other tributes. After the better part of the day we find some rock structures, and I know if there's a cave it'll be here. "What are we doing?" she asks for what feels like the five hundredth time. "Looking for a cave," I finally tell her.

"Why?"

"Hush," I say, because I don't want to explain it that far.

Finally, I find a cave – you wouldn't find it if you weren't looking for it. "Get in there," I tell Brandy harshly, and she runs in and runs right to the back like she's expecting it to lead somewhere. Not an entirely ridiculous assumption – one year they had these elaborate tunnel systems. They've never done it again because the suspense was interesting at first but it ended up taking weeks for the Games to end and they had to flood the caverns and kill a majority of the tributes left to bring it to a climax. She tries to run past me at the entrance, but I catch her and push her back. She starts to cry, and I feel bad that I have to be such a heel. "Please don't cry," I say, more gently. The Capitol audience likes heels … but only so much. She responds by crying louder and harder, but I'm sure no one will hear it unless they're standing right at the mouth and I'll hear them coming first.

Sure enough, now that I'm situated, I hear the ding of a parachute. About time. I stand at the entrance and catch a fairly large package – I tear it open and find the neat little squares of bread that's the trademark of District 3, along with some kind of stew (I don't question what's in it since I'm starving), dry rations for the next few days, several bottles of water, the utensils required by the stew, sleeping bags, blankets, and a length of rope. I think it's meant to rope you into a tree so you can sleep up there but if Brandy tries to escape one more time I'm using it to tie her hands and feet and I'll try to make a gag of some kind. I wish they sent coffee or liquor but I'm sure the Gamemakers frown on that. "Hey Brandy …" I start as I head back into the cave. She tries to run past me again. That's it.

"Okay Brandy … since you can't be good, I've gotta do this," I say flatly, and carry her towards the back of the cave. "You weren't gonna get some of the food first? You wouldn't last a day in the woods, squirt." I sit her and the package down roughly, pull out the rope, and tie her hands and feet together. She spits on me, and I grimace but wipe it off. "All right, now that that's settled – I'm going to make sure the entrance is hidden, and then we're going to eat."

I pull down some low branches from trees and gather some other debris and make a sort of covering for the entrance to the cave – there's still an open space and someone who's really looking for it will still find it, but it's even less obvious than before. I slide in and find Brandy's already managed to get into the package and start drinking/eating one portion of the stew despite her hands being tied. She's going to be the death of me.

It occurs to me I could kill her right now and the Capitol would cheer for me. I try not to let that thought make me sick as I sit down to eat. "There's spoons," I say, and hand her one. She acts embarrassed, and I know she's probably never used a spoon in her life. "It's not hard," I say softly, and help her hold it and slowly bring it to her lips. "See – easier to get the chunks that way." She nods and starts to eat more like a civilized human being. You know … that's something else the Capitol does. They turn us against each other – the lower-numbered districts act like we're better than the outliers. How many times have I caught myself thinking of them as hicks or uncivilized? I think of Spruce, knowing enough to sew people up and set bones at seventeen, and asking me about radiation, and Katniss with her snares and quick wit and Thresh, smart enough to see through all of us. And all of them have probably had about … I'll guess the equivalent of a fifth grade education. They were probably in school for a little longer than that, but they had time off for harvest or … tree-cutting season or coal-mining season or whatever, and most of the stuff they taught them was crap. Even in 3 and 5, it's not much better – it's only the engineers, the geologists, and the chemists who get better. But you know, if you get right down to it … they're probably as smart as anyone else. Not as smart as me, but as smart as other people.

The stew's good – it's lamb I think. I think about setting down the spoon and eating it the way Brandy was, as a bizarre act of solidarity, but I don't want to embarrass my mother, so I keep eating like the civilized human being she raised me to be. Brandy finishes the stew and reaches for other food. "Slow down, princess," I say quickly. "We're not eating it all tonight." I tear off some of the bread – it won't keep for long in open air, but it'll be okay a little stale. I give her several pieces and I hate the way she wolfs it down – she's probably been eating everything like she'll never eat again all week. Her Capitol liaison probably griped at her for it – she probably sat there, feeling ashamed because she didn't know how to eat "properly." Because she hasn't seen a full plate of food very often. I give her a few more squares of the bread and I don't comment on her table manners.

I hear the ding of another parachute and go out to get it – looking around for other tributes first. I find another big box – I know it wouldn't be more food so soon so I pick it up excitedly. It's heavy – I tear open the box and find a bunch of scraps. Like, most of them are rusted and it literally looks like it came from a junkyard. "What the hell is this?" I ask the sky in frustration – I know Stane will hear it. As though he knew what I was going to ask, when I unfold the note at the top of the box it says, "Shut up and start building – O." I sigh, carry the box in, and get to work. Well, I get to work after I chase Brandy away from the food box – while I was outside she ate some more of the bread. It won't keep anyway.

I dump the scrap box out and start organizing it into piles. There's old mobile speaking devices – I can rip the microchips from them. He's given me enough pieces of old, crappy engines I can probably find enough good or salvageable pieces to build a decent working one, and enough of them have good spark plugs I can probably make a couple of decent weapons. Stane, or whoever he sent to do it for him, picked a lot of pieces with plenty of good wiring – I can strip that out and use it. It'll take time but that's fine. "Brandy, you touch that package again I'm gonna tie your hands and feet behind your back," I snap without looking up when I hear rustling. She tells me to do something to myself that is probably not physically possible. "Hey! Your mother's watching this!" I scold her, even though I almost laugh. She scoots away from the package and sulks while I work into the night.

Finally, after I've sorted everything and started pulling out wires to use, I get too tired and bleary-eyed to go on working. I find Brandy already asleep, and shivering on the cold floor of the cave. It is cold in here. I go and put her in the sleeping bag, which wakes her up. I zip her in, put a blanket over her, and then go to get the other one. I lay my sleeping bag towards the mouth of the cave so I can listen in the night and zip myself in. She starts rolling herself towards me. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Can I sleep next to you?" she asks.

"No," I say flatly.

"Why not?" she asks pitifully.

"Just no," I say grumpily, and turn my back because I know she's going to sleep by me no matter what I say and I want it to look as … not rapey as possible, given the circumstances.

There's a long period of rolling sounds and then I feel a little body placed up against mine and I'm grateful for the sleeping bags and blankets between us. Eventually I fall asleep despite the fact she's breathing on my neck.

This mission is not going to be easy.

* * *

**Author's Note**

The hilarious part is that apparently teenage Tony is a buttload nicer to kids than full grown Tony judging by _Iron Man 3_. I didn't want to change it though – I hope this is a good dynamic.

Yes I intend for this to be the same cave Katniss and Peeta hide out in in the original.


	18. Chapter 8: Doldrums (Plutarch)

Chapter 8

The Doldrums

Plutarch Heavensbee

"What did I tell you people? Told you we should have given the boy from 7 a higher score," Seneca says dramatically as he steps into the room, laughing at the highlight screen which is showing the young healer slicing the boy from 4's throat open with an axe for the third time today. The odds have jumped up on him significantly, even though right now he's in the woods alone, like just about everyone at this point. It's a spectacular show of blood from a timid kid most of us wrote off as dead meat.

"And I told you this Arena was way too big," I snap. We're in the midst of doldrums like we haven't seen in years – it's been two full days since anyone died – the ratings spiked with the death of the girl from 8, mercy killed by the boy from 12 after the Careers tortured her. The girl from 12 heard it happen, and I'm sure the romantics are all curious about how this will affect the love story – all though they're probably more interested in what's happening with her and the boy from 10. They've agreed to stay with each other, presumably to get the bow back from the girl from 1, but they lost the Careers a while ago and just started walking. I'm sure many hearts went pitter-patter when they splashed each other in the river and we saw serious Katniss laugh. Haymitch Abernathy is grinding his teeth at this development – you can cut the tension between the two archers with a knife, and it's hindering his attempt to sell the love story between his tributes. But to me, and probably most purists who could do without the cheap drama, the most interesting by far is Anthony Stark, by day anyway. For three days, all day, he's been either building in his cave, or now that he's found a heavy rock to tie the little girl to, he's ventured back to the cornucopia and started digging up the bombs we use to kill tributes that step off the platform too early. It's tense work – he's had to run from Cato many times, yet he keeps on trying. What is he doing and why is he still keeping the little girl? How exactly does he plan on using her for bait? We don't know, and we can't wait to find out. At night when he finally sleeps it pretty quickly devolves into the kind of sugary cuteness a certain segment of the audience likes all too well – his hostage insists on sleeping next to him, even though it annoys him. He seems to be getting used to it – he even put his arm around her last night. And, no one wants to think about it, but there's a frighteningly large segment of the audience that probably wishes he'd do something more … unseemly to her.

We had another quick ratings spike when the girl from 2 snuck up on the boy from 1 and slit his throat in the night while he slept just inches from his allies … but the other Careers got smart and posted sentries in shifts through the night, and no one's died since then. It's been two days since then, and three days since the blood bath. The ratings have dipped catastrophically, and it's likely the only people watching are in the Districts – the families and friends watching and praying it stays dull for a while, with Capitol citizens checking in every now and then to see if things have picked up.

"I know … we need to force a confrontation somehow," Seneca says, staring at the screen. "Too early for the modified dogs, don't you think?"  
"Indeed, save those for the finale," I say dryly. I wonder when Fury and Coin will come to an agreement and who will win out – in the meantime I have to maintain my cover and go about making this an interesting Hunger Games.

"Sir!" one of the grunts from the control room calls, and Seneca hurries in. "Sir, the boy from 10 and the girl from 12 are getting close to the edge."

"Well then … time to drive them back towards the center," Seneca says cheerfully. "Let's … heat things up." It's all I can do not to strangle him for that pun, as he directs the origin of the fire.


	19. Chapter 9: The Fire (Katniss)

Chapter 9

The Fire

Katniss

I almost stabbed Clint when he came after me. "Katniss, cool it," he said sharply, seemingly unfazed by the fact he very nearly got stabbed in the eye. He was unarmed – he didn't get a good weapon either. He was already bleeding heavily from a gash in his right arm. "What happened there?" I asked.

"The girl from 2 happened," he said heavily.

"You're lucky that's all you got."

"I know it. You wanna go after the bow?" he asked it so casually, like we were at home discussing whether or not to go for a walk.

"Go after it? What do you mean?"  
"I know what direction the Careers headed – Glimmer's got it. We can go after her," he said, still casual.

"Go after her? And then what?"  
"Steal it while she's asleep."  
"And get killed in the attempt," I said contemptuously.  
"Well, at least one of us is dying eventually anyway," he said flippantly. Then, more seriously, he added, "I'd rather die that way than of starvation." He had a point.

"Fine. Which way?" 

He can climb trees better than I expected … I didn't think there were many trees in 10. I commented on this the first night as we climbed into two adjacent trees to sleep. "There's not, I'm more used to poles and buildings," he said. I waited for more information, and he gave it. "Because my brother and I used to be in a circus."

"Are you serious?" I asked after a bit of a silence. I had assumed that was a flippant joke.

"Yeah. We went around performing for mayors and merchants and people like that. We also did … odd jobs for ranchers to make extra money." By that he means shooting coyotes and foxes, and sometimes cougars and wolves.

"How'd you only get a 10?" I asked, and he mimed shoving me out of the tree.

We sleep in different trees most nights, and when we sleep in the same tree we keep a good distance between us. The little tributes can get away with sleeping next to each other or next to an older tribute, but people start making assumptions if the older ones sleep together under any circumstances short of hypothermia.

"I never told you in training …" he says the second day as we walk along, completely out of the blue. "But I … I admire what you did for your sister."

"I just hope Prim doesn't get drawn again like you did," I say, even though I have to face the unpleasant possibility she will be. And if I'm a victor I'll have to mentor her – I don't know if I can do it.

"I hope so too," he says. That's borderline treason … it's such a huge honor to be in the Games, after all. "I wonder if victors who are of age can volunteer – I know they're out of the Reaping but I don't know if there's a rule against them volunteering," he says.

"Why, you have another sibling and you think two victors is enough for one family?" I ask.

"No I … I was just thinking if you win and then your sister does get drawn again." I stop in my tracks and look at him for a long time.

"I don't want to think that far ahead," I say lamely.

"Me either," he says with a shrug. And we move on and forget that conversation ever happened.

I like him more than I want to. I have too many people I like too much in these Games.

The second night, we heard it. We were woken by the sounds of someone walking underneath us, and looked down to see someone lighting a fire. "What an idiot," Clint whispered, echoing my sentiment.

"One of us better stay awake and keep watch," I say. We didn't dare move – not when the fire was going to bring everyone into the area.

"I'll go first," he said, and I drifted back out for all too brief a time.

The screaming was horrible – we waited in terror, wondering what we should do. Then … Peeta's voice. He's helping the Careers look for me – and I'm an idiot for ever trusting him. I haven't seen Spruce's name in the sky, so at least he didn't trust him – I'm glad one of us is smarter. I go back to that moment at the bloodbath – he nodded to me not to run into the bloodbath. What if I had? The girl from 2 was too busy throwing knives at Clint to worry about me, what if I had gotten it? Clint and I could have the upper ground now, instead of cowering in the trees like scared children.

The canon didn't sound, even though the girl had long stopped screaming. There was a brief discussion, and then Peeta agreed to go finish her off. He headed back, there was one last scream, and then a canon.

I tried not to show any emotion, and I was very glad for the dark that hid my face from Clint, but probably not the cameras. Even so, Clint risked moving closer to me to put an arm around my shoulder. We didn't say a word, even when we were sure they had gone, because neither of us knew what to say. I fell asleep on his shoulder and I didn't care how it looked.

We thought we'd have an easier time tracking them since they were so close, but we almost immediately lost them again. After we lost the trail we just started wandering around looking for water – I looked for damp ground and especially green vegetation, but there was none to be found. He made a bow from a tree branch and some rope he cut from his tree belt, and arrows from smaller sticks, but it's not very accurate and both of us have trouble with it. His brother found a roundabout way to send him water once or twice – he shared it with me, but it's not enough for either of us. It occurred to me that I may not have to worry about killing him – dehydration might do it for me. We had food – dry rations from our pack, berries and leaves we gathered as we went, and occasional game (just because we have trouble with the quick bow doesn't mean we can't still hit the occasional especially stupid groosling). But we were so thirsty we didn't want any of it.

We finally found a stream, and we drank from it like we'd never see water again. And maybe we won't. We stayed there several hours, roasting the most recent groosling over a fire and drinking our fill. I knelt in the water to wash my face and he pushed me in. I could tell it was playful – the water wasn't deep enough to drown in unless you hit your head. Besides, I can swim – all though he has no way of knowing that. I yelled at him, pretending to be angrier than I was. "I'm sorry," he said insincerely. But he held out his hand to help me out and instead I pulled him in. He yelled at me just like I yelled at him. I answered his yelling by splashing him and he splashed me right back. We did that for a while and I laughed for the first time in days, maybe weeks, and then he did too. Then we both remembered where we are, and any joy we found in the moment was gone. We were both sopping wet when we filled our water bottles and moved on, hoping to stay far away from the Careers for now since we're still unarmed.

But apparently the Gamemakers have other ideas.

I stir first. I smell the smoke and hear the roar of the flames and start undoing my sleeping bag as quickly as possible. "Clint! Wake up!" I shout impatiently. He wakes up and curses in surprise – if he wasn't roped in he'd probably have jumped and fallen right out of the tree. There's not really time to pack – I just grab my pack, shove in the belt, and hoist everything else over my shoulder. He leaves his sleeping bag behind completely, but remembers his water bottle and the bow he made. I'd tell him to go back if we weren't in imminent danger.

We follow the running animals – some of them are on fire and the smell of burnt hair and flesh is incredibly awful. The fire spits damn fireballs at us – the Gamemakers are definitely trying to kill us. I remember my new nickname, and decide they're probably having a laugh over the irony.

We go on for what seems like forever, sometimes taking short breaks when we absolutely have to, and I yell at him for leaving his sleeping bag behind on one such break. "I'm sorry, Princess, I was thinking about not getting burned to death," he snaps back.

"Well if you think you're sharing mine, you've got another thought coming." We accumulate burns as we fail to dodge fireballs and pull ourselves over burning underbrush. I think we wouldn't feel bad at all about leaving each other behind if either of us could run faster than the other – but as soon as I have the thought I know that isn't true.

And then we practically fall into a pool of water. The cold water feels good on our burns, and this seems like a relatively safe place to be in a fire. Which is finally starting to die down. Clint's in as bad of shape as me – we take turns helping each other cut away the burnt portions of clothes. I hope he doesn't expect me to take his clothes off and look at his wounds better … I'm not quite ready to do that. I shove his water bottle in my pack since he left almost everything else behind. We take a moment to rest, and eat some of the crackers from my pack.

It would be a good place to take some time to recover … if we couldn't hear the Careers coming.

**Author's Note**

Very truncated from the book because … well, you've probably read the book, or at least seen the movie.


	20. Chapter 10: Where There's Smoke (Spruce)

Chapter 10

Where There's Smoke …

Spruce

I found a river a day ago – I bathed in it, but didn't drink out of it. The water I'm getting from the trees is cleaner and the river is a very dangerous place to be. I doubled back, wondering if the minis went in the wrong direction. I'm getting food from berries I pick as I go and the dry rations – I'm towards the end of those, but I'm eating enough that I'm only a little hungry.

Juniper died in the bloodbath. So did Track and Levy, the little ones from 6. I'm glad Rue, Brandy, and Stephen are okay for now but my hope is dulled by the loss of the others. Calico died the second night.

Why couldn't the rebels get us before the bloodbath? I doubt Tony's story more and more with every passing hour.

I saw Juniper's name and picture in the sky the first night as I lashed myself to the heavy branches of a tree to sleep. I tried not to cry but I thought about her sister's child that she'll never see, and I couldn't help it. I have no idea who killed her – I wonder if I'll avenge her without even knowing it. The Capitol audience always eats it up when that happens.

I'm walking along when I smell the smoke. I stop. I know it must be pretty far away, so I climb into the nearest tree to see. When I get into the upper branches I can see smoke coming from several directions – I realize they're correcting for the mistake of making the Arena too big. They're forcing us back together.

I head for the river – slowly at first, but the smell of smoke gets worse fast and I realize the Gamemakers are doing something to make it spread faster than it usually would, so I take off at a run, keeping my eyes and ears open. They're really starting to piss me off.

I hear something in the bushes, and I stand perfectly still even though by now the smoke is visible, axe raised. I wait a while longer, wondering if I should just move on, when I hear it again. "Who's there?" I yell, trying to sound intimidating. Silence. I step into the bushes, knowing what direction it came from, and two little figures run out. "Rue? Stephen?" I call. They're heading in the wrong direction – well, sort of. Away from the fire but also away from the river. They'll run into a different fire before long if I'm right.

"Wait – wait!" I call as I run after them. "I won't hurt you! Come on! They're pushing us to the river, I know the way!" Understandably, they ignore me.

I only catch up with them because Stephen can't run anymore – between the smoke and the running it was only a matter of time until he had an acute attack, and even the adrenaline can't keep him on his feet. Rue doesn't leave him, she waits by where he's kneeling on the ground, holding up a little pocket knife. I'm able to grab it from her without hurting her – she screams and punches me. "I'm not going to hurt you – either of you," I reiterate gently, and kneel by Stephen. I shift my axe so I can pick him up, and I hold him against my chest. He's heavy, even though he's young and small for his age, but I can do it, I think. Rue nods and follows me then – she knows I'd have killed them both while I had the chance if I was going to. Marty's probably yelling at me for not doing so – now that Juniper's gone, I'm sure he's helping Johanna and rooting for me. A win for 7 is a win for 7. I give Rue her knife back, and we head towards the river. I notice her lips are cracked and dry, and I wish we had time to give her and Stephen water from my canteen.

"I've got water, sweetie, just hold on," I tell her. "Stephen … how are you doing, buddy?" He doesn't answer, but I still feel him breathing against my chest so I assume he's okay for now. Okay as in alive, anyway.

The smoke gets so thick I bend low to try to stay under it – Rue does the same, and since she's lower to the ground than me anyway it probably helps her more. Then I start to feel the heat from the fire on my back, and I know this fire's spreading several times faster than any natural fire and I really do curse out loud – even though I just stop myself from actually cursing anyone or anything. "Rue, run ahead," I say, and start to run as fast as I can weighed down by my pack, my axe, and most of all Stephen. She doesn't run ahead, instead matching my pace.

At last we reach a point where they seem to have decided that the fire's gone far enough, and we slow down. Stephen's breathing is getting even worse, and I'm really worried. "Is he going to die?" Rue asks. Unless Tony's telling the truth … he will by the end of the week. But of course that's not what she means.

"I don't know Rue … he might come through it. He needs epinephrine." He needs an inhaler, but I'm sure he's never been prescribed one and no one's going to send it to him in the Arena. His mentor might be able to send him epinephrine though … if he or she finds a sponsor to take pity on Stephen or his district raises the money. We reach the river, and the smell of smoke here is thankfully very faint. I grab Rue's arm as she tries to run to the River. "I've got water in my pack, sweetie, drink that first and if you need more check really carefully for other people before you go to the river," I say as I set Stephen down and sit him up against the trunk of a tree. His lips are blue, which means he's going cyanotic – if I don't get his airway open soon he's going to die, or have severe brain damage, which in the Games is the same thing. I lay him down and desperately massage his chest, hoping something will somehow help or at least help ease the pain. Rue opens my pack and finds my canteen and drinks desperately. She kneels by Stephen and starts to pour water in his mouth but I shake my head – if anything trying to swallow the water will make it worse for him. She watches anxiously.

Then a parachute falls less than two feet from me. Rue picks it up and tears it open while I keep desperately doing probably useless things to Stephen. "It's for him," she says, and hands me a pre-filled syringe and the note. Yes! I read the note – sure enough, it's exactly what he needs. "Epinephrine – inject fully, not in a vein" is all it says. I do as the note says – there's no time to be gentle, unfortunately. I stab it into his arm, making sure I don't hit a vein. Within seconds, his breathing eases, and Rue and I breathe easier as well. "Okay, now I'll give him water," I say, and she hands me the canteen. She left him half of it – I tilt his head up and pour the water in. I know the improvement from the epinephrine won't last long – I take my hat from my pocket and decide I have no choice but to go to the river. I look both ways and listen closely, then soak my hat in the river. I come back and by now all the blue's gone from his lips and he's sitting up and fully aware – which means he got the injection in time. "Here, breathe in this. It's gross, I know … but I don't know what else to give you," I say and he puts it over his mouth and nose and breathes in and out slowly. He knows what to do. "Have you guys eaten at all?"

"Some berries and plants and things," Rue says, but her cheeks are sunken and I know it probably wasn't enough. I take some of the dry rations from my pack and divide it between them – we'll need more food soon. I think they're more worried about water. "Here guys, let me show you something," I say, and I find the nearest tree I can pull water from. I use the spike that's meant to anchor the rope as a drill, and put in the spile, telling Rue to cup her hands beneath it. She's surprised and delighted when the water flows into her hands. She brings her hands to her mouth to drink and then Stephen takes his turn. I let them do that for awhile, and then refill the canteen. It'll take a while since it's only a trickle of water, but that's fine.

"Do you know where any of the others are?" I ask.

"No," she says, with a shake of her head.

"Well … I guess we should find out," I say with a smile, even though what I'm suggesting is very dangerous. "Do you think you can find out?" I remember how well she could climb, and how she would even fearlessly jump from one high point to another in the complicated jungle gym of the training center.

"Yep," she says.

"Will you know how to get back okay?" I ask, finding something else to worry about besides her getting caught. She nods.

"I'm good at finding things," she says, and not slowed down by me or Stephen, she takes off into the trees like a little squirrel. I just hope she comes back okay.


	21. Chapter 11: Scouting (Rue)

Chapter 11

Scouting

Rue

I jump from tree to tree, safe and secure above the ground. I wish Stephen could jump with me – we could have gotten to a lot of places a lot faster that way.

It doesn't take me long to find the Careers. They're surrounding a tree and … oh no.

Katniss is up the tree, and she's obviously hurt. Cato tries to climb up after and falls on his butt – I have to stop myself from laughing. I look around for Clint, and find him shaking, apparently hurt worse than Katniss, in the underbrush several feet away. He's in a lot of danger where he is, but he's not trying to leave. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to. I decide to go around on my way back to Spruce and Stephen – I know Drusa's around here somewhere. Hopefully not in the trees.

As I go by Katniss, she seems resolved to waiting it out in the tree. The anthem of Panem starts to play, and I hop into the tree next to hers – I wonder if I can help her in any way. As I do, I see the tracker jacker nest.

It takes a while for her to notice me – I guess she's got other things on her mind, and besides I take it as a compliment to my sneaking skills. When she sees me, I point to the tracker jacker nest and take off, still planning to look for Drusa.

Sure enough, I can barely make her out, crouching in the underbrush and watching the other Careers. I make note of where she is, so that I can warn Spruce and Stephen not to go that way. I hold my breath and take special care as I jump into the tree she's under. She hears me anyway – she's more observant that the others. She looks up at me and …

Gives me a smile. I shudder and go on.

I get back to Spruce and Stephen a couple of hours later. "What took so long?" Stephen asks impatiently and Spruce shushes him. Stephen's already looking better – there's color in his face again and his lips aren't as cracked. "I know where Katniss and Clint are," I say quickly. "They're surrounded by the Careers. Or Katniss is – Clint's near her. They're both hurt, but I saw a parachute drop during the anthem."

"Where's Peeta? Do you know?" he asks.

"He's with the Careers – we think he's trying to sabotage them," Stephen explains.

"Okay … we need a plan," Spruce says.

"Maybe we can lead them away from Katniss and Clint," Stephen suggests.

"Katniss is in a tree with a tracker jacker nest – I think she's gonna drop it on them," I explain. "But they have a guard, so she might see her."  
"We lure the guard away then," Spruce says. He tries to sound confident but I can see how scared he is. But courage means being brave while being scared. "We need something I can throw."

"We've got to look out for Drusa – she's hunting the other Careers," I add quickly.

"Noted," Spruce says absently.

"Show us the way, Rue," Stephen says.

It's a lot slower going at night on foot. We listen all the way – we still don't know where Anthony Stark is, and Drusa could always change her mind. Spruce picks up good-sized rocks as we go and puts them in his backpack. It takes us most of the night, but just before dawn, we find the campsite. Most of the Careers are fast asleep, but the girl from 4, Keel, is standing guard. We go a fair distance away, and quiet as we can possibly be, we climb into a tree. Spruce is quick and quiet about getting in the tree – of course he is. He's from District 7. He reaches down and pulls Stephen up at several points – that's easier for everyone.

When we're all in the crotch of the tree, far above the sight of the Careers who probably won't think to look up, Spruce throws one of the rocks he picked up into the underbrush. It makes a loud sound and rustles a lot of leaves – sure enough Keel comes running. She looks around for the source of the noise, and Spruce is about to throw another rock when Drusa makes a move. Spruce covers my eyes with one hand and Stephen's with the other – I don't see what happens, but I hear a cannon fire almost immediately, and I know Drusa cut her throat. I also know she'll look up, and I push Spruce's hand away, ready to try to run or fight if I have to.

But then we hear screaming, and Peeta and Cato come running and Drusa disappears into the brush.


	22. Chapter 12: Yellow Belly (Clint)

Chapter 12

Yellow Belly

Clint

I wake up, amazed I managed to sleep. I'm immediately aware that I'm not in pain anymore, I look at my hands and legs and feel of my shoulder – there's a bare spot where the fire burned away the clothes, but no burns anymore. Whatever Tack sent me, it worked.

I listen closely – I can hear Cato snoring. I hope that means they're all asleep. I cautiously edge my way to the clearing where they settled down, crawling on my belly and trying to go slow so as not to disturb the bushes too much.

There's a guard. Of course there is.

She stands at the ready with a spear, having not apparently figured out that spear is a death bringer – I saw Spruce kill the boy holding it during the bloodbath, and the boy who picked it up after that was in the sky the next night. I consider finding a stick to carve into an arrow, but by then the others will probably be awake, and even if they're not, with this bow I can't be sure I'll get an instant kill shot. I'm cursing myself for falling asleep and not knowing how to make a better bow from scratch when a noise draws the girl off. I edge closer, and see Glimmer still fast asleep. I steel my courage and head towards her – she, Cato, and Peeta are the only ones I have to get by. I think I hear something, but ignore it. Finally I hear, "Clint!" and it scares me to death. I stand perfectly still, but none of the three in the clearing wake and the guard isn't back yet. I look up and see Katniss, leaning out over a branch sawing at it with her hunting knife. At the end of the branch is a tracker jacker nest. I debate running away like a yellow belly, but decide I better hurry and I don't have to worry about being gentle.

I grab the quiver and bow with one swift motion and run like the fire's at my back again, and hear as the screams of fury turn to screams of terror after the thud of the tracker jacker nest.


	23. Chapter 13: Alliances (Spruce)

Chapter 13

Alliances

Spruce

I hear Peeta screaming at Katniss to run, and not long after I see him running with Cato chasing him. Unfortunately I don't have a ranged weapon, so there's nothing I can do.

"Peeta!" Stephen whispers, worried. I put an arm around his shoulder, and wish Tony's rebels would hurry and get here, then remind myself they're not really coming.

After waiting for a tense thirty minutes, we slide out of the tree and go looking for Katniss. We pass Keel's body – I try to keep the kids from looking. I don't want to do it but I know we need it – I send them on into the trees, then kneel by her and carefully slide her pack off her back. She's surely got a sleeping bag, and probably some weapons and maybe even snacks. I join the kids quickly, and they both have the grace not to ask me about the extra pack. We hear the sounds of alarmed birds and know the hovercraft is on the way to pick up Keel's body. We skirt the clearing – giving the fallen tracker jacker nest a wide berth and listen for the buzz that would tell us we got way too close.

We find Katniss, unconscious at the base of a tree, about a hundred feet away. She didn't make it far – she's been stung several times. She's wet all over – she must have taken a dip in some water somewhere, then found her way back to land. I kneel by her, wondering if there's anything I can do for her. "I'll look for sweet leaves," Rue said quickly.

"What kind of leaves?" I ask.

"I thought you were a healer," she says, disappointed, and takes off to look for them.

"Be careful," I call after her, quickly becoming a mother hen. But I can't help it – I know Cato probably didn't get very far since he was surely stung once or twice and there's no telling where Drusa is.

"She'll be okay," Stephen says, in exactly the same tone as a child reassuring a parent about another child.

I give Katniss some water and look at the stings. They look bad – I wonder if the reason we didn't see Glimmer is because she got stung by too many. I notice she has recently healed burns as well … the healing was probably sped along by the kind of powerful medicines I've read about but never actually seen. I brush away dirt both from those wounds and the stings, wishing I had a topical antibiotic to put on them. I almost undress her so I can make sure she's not hurt anywhere else but I decide she'd kill me when she woke up and I remember there are cameras everywhere.

"Get off her!" a voice suddenly bellows, and I jump about a foot, and so does Stephen. I whirl around and see Clint, with the bow he stole from Glimmer raised and an arrow pointed at my throat.

"I'm just trying to help – she's been stung. Rue went to go get some … sweet leaves?"

"Yeah that's what she called them," Stephen says confidently. His presence makes Clint realize I'm not going to hurt Katniss, and he lowers his weapon. He's carrying two birds and a rabbit over his shoulder, and some roots and berries in his hands. "Well, guess we better start a fire," he says with a sigh.

Rue comes back with the leaves just as the meat's almost done cooking. She holds up the sweet leaves, and I don't recognize them. "I don't think these grow in 7," I say. "And I don't think they were at the station either."  
"They grow all over 11 – we carry them with us when we work in the orchards. There's a lot of nests there," she explains. "Help me chew them?" That's not exactly sanitary, but I don't see how many options we have, so I take some and chew them along with her, then spit the mulch into my hand, and she takes it from me without a hint of disgust. The face Stephen makes as she does expresses enough disgust for all of us, and I almost laugh. Rue kneels by Katniss and presses the mulch on her stings – I watch her work, and realize I'm with another healer in training. I suddenly get a tight feeling in my chest when I realize she probably won't live to become a healer proper, but I push that thought to the back of my mind.

By the time Rue's finished tending to Katniss, Clint pulls the meat off the fire. We try to figure out how to split it up among us. "Should we try to feed Kat?" Clint asks, looking to the girl sleeping fitfully at the base of the tree. His concern over her is surprising.

"I'm afraid she'll choke … and she might not be able to keep it down. Let's just give her water for now … unless we can get soup from one of our sponsors," I say, a little too hopefully.

"So … a bird each to the little ones and we split the rabbit?" he asks. I know what he's getting at – the birds are a lot richer than the rabbit. Stephen and Rue are in worse shape than either of us – he was well fed before he came, being part of a victor's family, and I had the dry rations.

"Yeah, sounds …"

"That's not fair," Stephen protests. "What if … Rue and I both gave one of you a wing from our birds?" That's not much more, but for a poor District child it's a huge sacrifice. "Yeah, I like that better," Rue says quickly. I smile at their generosity. And then I get the tight feeling in my chest again.

We all eat quickly and desperately – somewhere Cassius is yelling at me for my lack of table manners.

Clint goes out hunting again as soon as we finish eating – but not before kneeling by Katniss to check on her. "I'll watch her, I promise," I say. He looks at me and nods, but he looks serious. I don't want to have to face him if she doesn't make it.

As soon as he's gone, Rue remembers something. "Oh hey! I almost forgot. This'll help Stephen," she says, and pulls a few funny-looking plants from her little pack.

"Now this grows in District 7," I say with a smile, recognizing it. "Stephen, can you get the fire going again while I tap a tree?"

"Sure thing," he says, and sets to work starting a fire just like they learned in training. He's better at it than any of us.

Rue checks on Katniss once more while I fill my canteen with water, wondering what I can boil the plant in and deciding just to use the canteen. I can stuff some of the leaves in the mouth. "I wonder what she's dreaming about," Rue calls to me as the water flows into the canteen. Probably nothing good.

I wonder if I could find a plant to use as a diuretic if it would flush her system and help her get better faster. I decide it's better not to experiment on her – it's cold in 7, and we only have to deal with tracker jackers a few months of the year, and even when I do have to deal with them, I give an antidote that probably doesn't grow in this Arena.

I boil the water in the canteen with a few leaves from one of Rue's plants – I hope the others will keep. "Here," I say, and hand the canteen to Stephen. "Be careful, it's hot. Hold it by the handles and blow on it before you drink." I make this tea for Willow Lawson, and it seems to help quite a bit.

It's the first time I've thought of anyone at home since the start of the Games. I wonder if Dad's watching. I wonder what my patients are thinking. And the tight feeling in my chest comes back and I stare at the flames, forcing myself to forget about home.

We eat well again just before nightfall – Clint got four birds this time, so we can split it evenly. We hurriedly put out the fire, and I start to climb into the trees with Rue and Stephen when I notice Clint's still on the ground. "Think we can get her in the tree safely?" he asks.

"Not totally unconscious like that," I say quickly. I don't want to risk dropping her or she freaks out due to a hallucination and takes herself and/or one of us down." He shrugs and takes the sleeping bag from her pack and slowly works it under her – lifting first her legs, then her torso, and finally her head as he tucks it under her. Then he lays down beside her on the ground, and Rue and Stephen exchange a significant look. I drop Keel's sleeping bag down to him.

"I'm not going to sleep anyway," he says. "Someone's got to keep watch."

"But you'll get cold – it's easier to stay awake if you're warm. Wrap yourself up," I suggest. I had intended to give it to one of the kids – they've been sharing the one that was in Stephen's pack. Instead, I give Stephen mine.

"But … this is yours … you grabbed it fair and square," he protests, and I get the tight feeling in my chest again, this time out of guilt. I killed a boy for it, but he doesn't know that.

"Take it – I leave it open most nights anyway," I say. The Arena's probably a nice temperature for most of the tributes, and cold for those from the southern parts of 11 and 10, but for me it's hot.

"You sure?" he asks me.

"Yeah," I say. "Just give me my hat back for the night." I take my hat back from Stephen and put it on – you lose most of your heat through your head anyway – and belt myself in without a sleeping bag and rest my head against the tree to sleep. Stephen and Rue belt in on either side of me and use me like a pillow – a situation I don't really mind.


	24. 14: Bad Week To Quit Drinking (Haymitch)

Chapter 14

A Bad Week to Quit Drinking

Haymitch

Somehow or other, Katniss has ended up with two handsome tributes. Neither of whom is Peeta.

I'm not really worried about the boy from 7 – he's probably too shy to make a move on her. It's the boy from 10 whose making my life harder – I've been wishing she'd ditch him ever since they both headed off after Glimmer. I've managed to play it off as "they're just friends, since they're both archers" up until now. But now he's sleeping practically on top of her. Kind of creepy, if you ask me, considering she's unconscious. But I'd be selling it as sweet if it was Peeta.

Speaking of Peeta, I'm begging every contact I've ever had for some antibiotics and skin-regenerating cream for him. I find myself in a bar where I've had some luck before – I've given up on getting a proper sponsor for Peeta and I'm collecting coins one at a time, and hopefully at some point I'll have enough to get him the medicine he needs. And then the next immediate goal will be proper tracker jacker antidote for Katniss … all though at this rate she'll sleep it off before I get the chance.

Johanna and Marty are already there, watching the feed on their boy at one of the many bars with a bar – this place specializes in the Games. I don't even know if they're open the rest of the year. They've both got a tall glass of cider in front of them. He's helping her now that his girl's gone … must be nice to have the luxury of teammates. Marty's hollering at the screen – he doesn't understand why the boy doesn't kill every tribute he comes across while he has the chance.

"Shut up, Marty, we can use it," Johanna snaps.

"He's delaying the inevitable. He's making it harder on himself," Marty says.

"I _know_ that, Marty! There's nothing we can do about it."

"I'll send him socks or something, and you let him have it in a note …" Marty starts.

"The kid's a healer. He saves people. He fixes them. He doesn't hurt them. He puked his guts up after killing a kid who was going to kill him if he didn't. It's his nature. You think a strongly worded note's gonna overcome that?" I ask, unable to stop myself.

"Well, something's gonna have to overcome it. Too bad your girl's getting passed around, isn't it Haymitch?" Marty snaps.

"Oh shut up, Marty, it's not like she's asking the boy from 10 to fawn over her," Johanna says before I can. "Not that it matters … hell. The runners said there's even people cheering for her and Spruce." The runners are the Capitol messengers who bring word from the site managers in 3 – they monitor what the Capitol audience is talking about, and give us any information that might help us. As soon as Johanna says it, her eyes light up.

"Don't even think about it," I say quickly, feeling a sudden need to drink. A lot. She has the grace not to say anything more in front of me – but I already know how she'll sell it. He's every bit as sweet as Peeta, but substantially more useful.

Hopefully Katniss will disagree when she wakes up – I hope she remembers Peeta saved her life.

I make my way over to the handful of Capitol drinkers watching Peeta – the feed on him is incredibly boring since he's just hiding out. But a few manage to look concerned anyway. I manage to get a handful of coins to go towards the "save Peeta" fund, but I've got a long way to go, and of course the tax gets higher at the end of every day. At this rate I won't ever get it for him.

I stop and look at what Anthony Stark is doing. He's got the bombs all dug up and carried over to a spot nearer his cave, on top of a little hill. He's burying them and rewiring them … he's obviously building a trap but I have no idea what it's supposed to do. I suppose he's gonna put the little girl in it and then hope someone steps on a bomb trying to go to her – to harm or help her. If that's the plan it's just as likely to take out one of my kids as it is the Careers. That's clever in a very diabolical way. Howard manages to have food dropped for him and his hostage every other day – must be nice to be able to get around the rules.

Not that I haven't tried – I pitched the love story hard to Seneca Crane. I think he almost bought it and agreed to my proposed rule change. I have Electra and Oleum from 5, Chaff and Seeder from 11, and Maria and Tack from 10 on my side – all three of those districts still have both tributes in it. So does 2 but Emilianus went apoplectic when we went to him with the suggestion – we know his opinion would carry further with the Gamemakers, but he's horrified with the idea of his tribute – the one with the highest body count of the Games so far – splitting glory with Cato. Cato's mentor Brutus was equally displeased with the idea – he thinks Drusa's a "coward" and doesn't want his "honorable" tribute to split glory with her. Johanna's sort of on my side – she asked for the same rule change as me, only with an addendum. "Make it possible for two tributes to live if one of the surviving tribute's district partner died on the first day." That would also make Spruce (and Anthony) eligible. She asked that just after he teamed up with Stephen and Rue – I know she's hoping it'll make it easier for him, if he has the option of leaving one of them alive. I think that'll only make it worse – who could ever make a choice like that?

Cato's engaged in a cat and mouse battle with Shale from 5 – she constantly steals his food and he can never catch her. He's all on his own and it would make sense for Drusa to kill him – but she's trying to let him get a high enough body count before she kills him. I don't know why it matters but you see that with the kids from 2 a lot. She sneaks up and steals food from him too – he never even tries to stop her. Thresh is on his own, eating surprisingly well from wild plants and the supplies he grabbed during the bloodbath and keeping his ears open for anyone to come into his grass. Drusa's heading his way – I'm not sure if she's looking for him specifically or not. I wonder how long it'll be before the Gamemakers force another confrontation – I get the distinct impression they're waiting on Katniss. After all, they never got their confrontation between the Girl on Fire and the Golden Daughter.

I look back to Anthony Stark, who's now setting up wires on the inside rim of his bombs. Presumably to keep the little girl from accidentally running into them.

It's a huge area he's closed off for one little girl – it'd be less conspicuous if it was smaller.

And then I know exactly what he's doing, and my heart almost stops. Once the Gamemakers figure it out, they'll give us the rule change … with or without Johanna's addendum.

And I picked a very bad week to quit drinking.


	25. Chapter 15: Plan of Action (Katniss)

Chapter 15

Plan of Action

Katniss

I stir slowly. I'm damp all over … either from sweat or dew. I'm on top of my sleeping bag. I'm groggy, very sore, and somewhat disoriented but I'm aware of my surroundings.

Aware of my surroundings enough to know Clint Barton is asleep right next to me. I'm very confused. He ran off with the bow like a dirty coward and I'm an idiot for ever trusting him – so why would he be here?

Clint lifts his head and looks at me, awake, and breaks into a huge smile. "Mornin', beautiful," he says under his breath. It's a Starkish thing to say and I almost hit him. "Or should I say evening?" It looks closer to evening.

"Hey Spruce, Katniss is awake!" a little voice calls. An unchanged boy's voice, I think. I lift my head and, sure enough, I see the little boy from 5 standing by me – Stephen is his name, I think.

"Oh good, we were really worried!" the dark, curly-haired boy from 7 says cheerfully. He's standing at a tree, tapping it for water. I don't know how he got a spile, but I'm jealous. There's dried blood stains on his shirt but he looks as cheerful as can be, and Clint and Stephen don't seem to be worried about anything in each other's company. I must still be dreaming. At least it's a pleasant dream now, if only Peeta was here it would be perfect.

The beautiful little girl from 11 comes running into the clearing with berries and roots. "You must be hungry," she says, and pushes them all into my hands.

"Were you … waiting on me?" I ask the gathered group.

"Well actually I was just helping with supper but you haven't had anything to eat in two days," Rue explains.

"Two days?" I ask, shocked.

"We were hoping for some soup for you … but I think Haymitch is drunk again," Clint teases. Everyone knows he's a drunk – they all saw him face plant at the Reaping, and remember mishaps from years past. I start to nibble on the roots Rue brought me.

It's a strange, strange supper for me – I eat the roots and berries quietly while Spruce roasts the groosling Clint apparently brought him some time earlier. The others chat as if they've known each other all their lives. I learn that Spruce wants epinephrine – whatever that is – for Stephen in case he has another severe attack. Rue and Stephen are fast friends even though they come from different worlds – they talk mostly to each other and sometimes they even finish each other's sentences. Clint laughs and jokes like he has with me all this time, but he gets serious when he mentions he thinks the girl from his district may be with Anthony Stark – he seems like he's very unsure whether that's comforting or not.

Finally, Stephen breaks the pattern of small talk. "So when are we going after Cato?" he asks eagerly.

"When Katniss is better," Spruce says chidingly.

"I'm fine now," I say, but that's a lie. I'm weak and I don't think I'd be much help on any mission.

"We'll give it a couple of days," Spruce says quickly.

"What are we going to do?" I ask.

"I'm apparently setting his food on fire," Spruce says. "Whilst these little squirrels are a distraction and you two cover me." Does he mean one of us using the awful bow Clint made? Also, I hate the idea of setting perfectly good food on fire, but I guess it'll force a confrontation.

"What if one of the 'little squirrels' gets caught? And is Cato the only Career left?"  
"Drusa's out there somewhere too … we have to watch out for her," Rue says.

"Who's left?" I ask, thinking immediately of Peeta.

"Anthony Stark, the little girl from my district is out there somewhere, the girl from 5, the boy from 11, Drusa, Cato, Peeta, and us," Clint says, counting everyone off on his fingers.

"Peeta's still alive?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, down by the river I think," Rue says coyly. "Is all that true?"  
"Is all what true?" I ask, trying to sound like I don't know.

"Are you two … _in love_?" she asks, sounding dreamy. Stephen rolls his eyes. Spruce looks at Clint nervously, and suddenly I know why Clint was sleeping by me and I just want to hit him. If Clint pulled the same crap as Peeta I'm going to punch him in the face.

"I want to hear more about this plan," I say evasively. Spruce breathes easier, Stephen approves, Rue apparently takes that as a yes and grins real big, and Clint … Clint looks jealous.

I very nearly hit him.

I stir slowly. I've been asleep in a tree. The first people I see are Spruce and the little ones. Clint has Spruce's sleeping bag, so Spruce just wears a knit cap pulled down low over his eyes. Rue and Stephen sleep with their heads on either of his shoulders like he's a human pillow – it's adorable.

I try not to think about what's going to happen to them.

I look over at Clint – he takes the night watch, which is why he sleeps most of the day when he isn't hunting. "I'll take the next watch," I tell him, barely loud enough for him to hear – I don't want to wake the others.

"You're still sick, you need your rest," he says back.

"I'm fine," I insist.

"Please – you're exhausted, I can tell," he says back, and he sounds annoyed. His eyes are fixed at the base of Spruce and the kids' tree, but his ears are probably peeled and I don't want to bother him with the questions I want to ask – I want to know why he stayed with me once he had the bow. I don't know if he'd tell me even if I asked. I want to know when he decided to rip off Peeta, but of course he wouldn't answer that, would he?

Speaking of Peeta – I try hard not to think about what's going to happen to him either.

I lean back against the tree and decide to pretend to be asleep. I keep my ears open – I know Drusa's still out there and I don't know how much help I'll be with the bow Clint made, but I'd rather have at least a fighting shot if she shows up.

The thing is, I really am exhausted, and almost as soon as my eyes are closed, I stop "pretending" and really do fall back asleep.

Spruce leaves us sleeping until pretty late in the day – I'm kind of annoyed at first but I'm grateful for the extra rest. I lay my head back against the tree – my neck is stiff and I have a headache. "Come on Sunshine, you can get your beauty sleep later," Clint calls to me from his tree as he climbs down.

"Shut up," I tell him, not able to think of anything wittier at the moment. Spruce, who's climbed into my tree to wake me up, smiles like he almost laughs but thankfully doesn't.

"I was thinking you could help me with some …" Spruce starts.

"I thought I would be hunting," I say quickly.

"Oh? Yeah – if you feel up to it," he says with a smile, and he actually looks kind of relieved. He climbs out of the tree even faster than I could and I follow. I see Stephen and Rue holding hands while they stand at the base of the tree, and I don't know if this is love or just friendship for them.

"You three be careful," I tell them as I follow Clint into the woods.

Clint looks up and smiles when I join him. "You sure you're up to hunting, Kat?" he asks. I almost tell him I hunt while feeling way worse, but of course I can't mention my hunting at home.

"Yeah – I'll go crazy sitting at camp," I answer instead.

He actually cut the ends off the bow he made so its closer to my size – I can use it much more easily now. "Why'd you adjust it for me instead of giving me the good one?" I ask, teasing.

"Because I'm selfish," he says flippantly. "We can trade if you want – our arms are about the same length and me cutting the ends off should help us both." I'm surprised he's not afraid I'll run away with it – I can't deny I'll be tempted to if he hands it to me. "But first – try that one for a while." He hands me a few of his arrows.

A rabbit scurries across our way, several hundred yards ahead – I take the shot. It tumbles into the brush, hit, and Clint cheers and runs for it. "Nice – it's through the eye!" he says as he kneels by it. He lifts it by the ears, and sure enough, the arrow, being the well-made and lethal piece of weaponry it is, went all the way through the unfortunate rabbit's head, but it went in through the eye. He slings it over his shoulder – he doesn't mind the fresh blood that's joining the stains on his shirt, apparently. I almost protest that its mine but that would sound childish, and if he's volunteering to carry it, I don't object.

A few hours later, we're walking along and, between us, we have four groosling and two rabbits (I got most of the birds). We're almost ready to head back – we want to get one more groosling so everyone can have their own. Clint says the others will certainly have berries and other edible plants gathered for us to eat along with the meat, and Stephen will probably be drinking the medicinal tea Spruce has been making for him.

"What's wrong with him?" I ask.

"Bad lungs – he can't breath sometimes. I guess the tea helps. Rue found the plant he uses. She's liable to show him up – she took care of you while you were out too," he explains. My chest gets tight – Rue's a healer like Prim. She has no business here. I also can't avoid the question anymore.

"Clint – why'd you stay?" I ask. He doesn't answer right away.

"Clint?"  
"It's too soon – I didn't want to leave you."

"What do you mean too soon?"  
"I mean … if I don't win, I want it to be you. You or one of the kids. I wanted to make sure you had a chance." I almost ask if he would have left me if all the Careers had been killed at that point – but I decide I don't want to know the answer. I don't think I can stand either one. "Why do you care who wins if you lose?" I ask instead.

"You have to ask?"

"Yes."  
"My brother came home to me. I want Prim to have the same thing happen." I have no idea if he's telling the whole truth, but even if he's lying by omission I'm glad for it. He throws a rock into some bushes and stirs up some wild birds – I take the shot before he can and the last bird falls at our feet – I didn't get it through the eye this time but it'll still taste fine.

I'm suddenly hit with unwanted empathy for Clint's brother – I imagine if I win, and Prim got reaped again. He must be going insane now, and it'll probably kill him if Clint doesn't come home.

I push that thought to the back of my mind as we walk back towards camp. "You know Kat, it's not just that …" he says, and I just want him to keep his mouth shut. "You're all fire and …"  
"Just don't, please," I cut him off. I don't think I can stand it, because I'm really starting to believe him.

"Kat …"  
"That's not my name. My name is Katniss," I say sharply, even though I really don't mind. Maybe if I'm hateful to him, he won't be so keen on me – maybe he's an awful person and he'll show his true colors.

But there's not much time to hope for that outcome – we hear a scream from the direction of camp. We look at each other for one brief second, both filled with fear, and run like our lives depend on it. Thankfully, we're not far at all.

I come into the little clearing we've made into our camp just a few seconds before Clint, and see someone disappearing into the woods on the other side. I fire an arrow – I know I don't hit but I think I graze her cheek.

I give chase but I quickly find myself losing her trail in the woods – Clint's right behind me, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. I swat it away. "If I'd had the good bow, she'd be dead!" I shout and storm back into the clearing.

Spruce, Rue and Stephen are all safe and sound – up a tree. I breathe a sigh of relief as I look at them. Stephen's breathing funny and Spruce looks scared out of his mind. He's got a good grip on his axe like he was ready to use it.

"Is everyone okay?" Clint asks.

"You can see they're okay," I snap.

"Well excuse me for not making assumptions, princess," he says, and I have no idea why he calls me that.

"We're fine," Spruce says quickly, cutting off the fight, as he climbs down with Stephen – Stephen wraps his arms around Spruce's neck and Spruce just comes on out of the tree like its nothing – I'm very glad he's a gentle soul, considering he's much stronger than he knows. "I think she wanted to intimidate us more than anything – she threw the empty tracker jacker nest into the clearing." My face gets hot and my stomach tightens – that was clearly meant for me.

"I didn't know it was empty at first – that's why I screamed," Rue explains apologetically as she climbs down.

"No, that's good, Rue. It brought us back quick," I say and hug her. I agree with Clint – if I don't win, I want it to be one of the kids. Or Clint.

"We need to move," Clint says stiffly. He's still standing guard, with an arrow drawn in his bow.

"From now on, we need to sleep somewhere different every night," Stephen adds. I don't say that Drusa's probably been watching us, because I don't want to worry him, and besides he's right – we don't need to make it easy for her. We have strength in numbers for now, but eventually she'll get desperate enough. When that happens, I plan to kill her before she gets to any of my allies. I'll be ready.


	26. Ch 16: Playing to the Audience (Spruce)

Chapter 16

Playing to the Audience

Spruce

Now that Katniss is no longer in her tracker jacker fever, we're all sleeping in the trees. Katniss and Clint sleep in separate trees from me and the kids. They sleep pretty far apart, but I know he wshes they were sleeping next to each other.

I'm almost asleep when I hear the ding of a parachute. It falls right in my lap and I open it excitedly – if it's food besides groosling, I'll be thrilled, but I'm hoping it's Stephen's epinephrine.

It's a pair of socks. A small pair of socks – even Rue probably can't wear them. I unfold the note, knowing Johanna must have just sent it to me to get a message in. But it's not Johanna's handwriting. I've never seen his writing before, but I quickly surmise it's Marty and I can practically hear his voice yelling at me as I read it. "YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG. Boy you wanna play house you better get some action. You want the medicine, you better make a move. – M." I stare at it for a long time, swallow my anger (the Other Guy has been growling ever since I saw the socks) and I look at the camera. "Gee, thanks ever so much Marty. I think I can use these as bandages, how did you know?" I say, in the same syrupy sweet voice Johanna uses when she's being sarcastic, before I rip up the note and stuff it in my pocket. I put the socks in my backpack though – I really can use them as bandages if I run out of the gauze.

I don't know it but apparently this bit of smartaleckry makes me a hit with Capitol and District audiences alike, because about an hour later I'm woken up by another package landing in the branch above me. I reach up to get it. This time it's Stephen's epinephrine. "Be thankful there's a market for funny guys. But Marty's not wrong. – J."

I look over at Katniss. I have done and will do far worse in these Games than flirt with a girl. Besides, maybe she'll kill me and I won't have to worry about having to kill someone.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Just a bit of levity before the next chapter. I want to point out that the next chapter has some imagery of domestic violence (it's a flashback) so anyone who's been through that should be warned.


	27. Chapter 17: Never Again (Spruce)

Chapter 17

Never Again

Spruce

Images flow in and out of my mind as I'm in that terrible half-awake half-sleeping state. Instead of worrying about what might happen in the next few days, I'm tormented by something that already happened two years ago.

It was a cold day. I remember that.

He came home, with that awful smirk on his face. He got away with murder and he knew it. The people who care don't have any power to do anything, and the people who have the power don't care.

We were alone – everyone left. For the past week there had been people in and out of my cabin constantly. My neighbors seemed to think I'd starve if they don't cook for me – they didn't have any food to spare but they cooked what I had. They cleaned up for me and washed my clothes so I didn't have to do anything – which was regrettable because I had far too much time to brood. But there was no one left that day – none of them could stand to look at him either.

I remember the smell of the ink and the blood from the cheap tattooing – more than that I remember the pain. Cedar James is the one who did it for me – he offered me whiskey before he started and I said no. I wanted to feel every pinprick that made up her name.

The freshly healed skin burned as I looked at her murderer – and he just smiled.

He went right to the cabinet and got out the liquor.

We were as silent as always as I fixed supper for him, like always. There wasn't much – I hadn't been in the forest and the money Mom left had all but dried up. He commented on this – apparently the food at the Hall of Justice was not to his liking, and he was expecting more when he got home. I didn't respond.

"You go even more stupid than usual while I was gone, boy?" he asked, and I just glared at him. "Is there a reason you decided to skimp on the meat, boy?"

"It's all we had," I said stiffly, speaking at last.

"Prices go up while I was gone?"  
"I haven't been in the forest all week," I answered through gritted teeth. He cursed at me for being lazy. "I'm not lazy … I was mourning my mother," I said haltingly, the words painful.

"Don't make excuses," he said and slapped me across the face.

The Other Guy wanted to hurt him … and for once I didn't resist.

Hurt, break, hurt, smash … Blood and pleading. Doesn't matter. Hurt, break, hurt, smash.

I came back to myself and found him lying on the floor, bleeding all over the place (blood was on the floor and pooling under his skin in what would soon be ugly bruises) and with missing teeth and a broken nose. My knuckles weren't just bruised – they were torn open and bleeding. He was crying and pleading with me. I should have been horrified, but I was just glad the Other Guy didn't kill him.

I went and got Mom's supplies, and thought, "I guess they're mine now." I patched him up as best I could – not gently, mind you – and put him in bed, and gave him some whiskey to kill the pain, and then I cleaned up the blood and went out to get the plants I always gathered with Mom.

Lucy Foreman came over the next day – the blood was gone but she saw my hands and saw how bad of shape he was in. She didn't hate me for it … in fact, she hugged me and cried and told me it was going to be okay as though I was the one who got beaten.

Everyone in the village knew by the next day – no one condemned me for it. Some of them wanted to buy me a drink. The general consensus seems to be that I showed great restraint by not murdering him outright.

Maybe if I had, I wouldn't still have the nightmares about the moment I found her. She was still alive, but barely – I did what I could but it wasn't enough.

It was Connie who found me, holding her and crying uselessly, on the floor of my cabin when she came to have one of her men looked at. His injury wasn't life-threatening and was immediately forgotten.

The Peacekeepers took Briar away but we all knew nothing would happen … you only go to prison or face other punishment if you hurt someone important or you break the Capitol's laws in a way that can be construed as potential treason (theft or breaking any of their other petty rules). A lowly village healer wouldn't warrant the proper investigation and trial needed for any real justice to happen.

Everyone knew what he did to her and to me. Every few years, the other guys on his crew jumped him – trying to get him to stop. It never worked.

But he never laid a hand on me after that – he never even yells at me anymore.

I wonder if he's watching. I wonder what he thinks about me looking after Rue and Stephen.

He probably wants me to kill them even more than Marty does.

That thought makes me jolt awake. I look at the two … fast asleep against me. The whole plan for facing Cato is Stephen's idea. I remember how he rallied the minis too. I wonder what his dreams were before he was reaped. And then there's Rue … sweet and enthusiastic, intelligent and capable. I wonder what her dreams were. She has little brothers and sisters who are doubtless missing her right now.

Even though I know they're not, I desperately wish Tony's rebels were real.


	28. Chapter 18: Star-Crossed Lovers (Spruce)

Chapter 18

Star-Crossed Lovers

Spruce

It's been a couple of days since Katniss woke up – Katniss is looking better. She and Clint take turns hunting with the good bow – they eventually learn she's somewhat better with the bad one than he is, so she's apparently stuck with it.

I know she's worried about Peeta … and Clint's worried about Brandy. We don't know how much we should trust Tony – I don't know if he made an offer to Clint, but either way we realize we don't know much about him, and if he made the offer to Clint he probably feels like as big a fool as I do. He could be a rapist for all we know … all though the Gamemakers usually frown on that and probably would have found a way for the elements to take him out by now if that's what was happening. We're a nice set of worriers – I worry about Stephen having another attack and Rue going off on her own.

If we wait any longer, the Gamemakers are likely to do something far worse to force a confrontation, or we'll drive ourselves crazy worrying.

I know my part by heart, not that there's much to know – I use my matches to light Cato's supplies on fire. It's not just him – we suspect it's also a base of operations for Drusa even if the district partners aren't exactly closely aligned. I also suspect Shale's living off Cato … but I don't want to worry Stephen by bringing that up. Because we know it's Drusa's base as well, we lay some traps for her – she'll surely come back either when she sees the flames or to get more supplies. So we'll just be lurking around the woods that the two deadliest tributes have cordoned off for themselves for probably a few hours.

Is it stupid that the thought of "making a move" is far scarier? Several times I've thought, "This is my moment. I'll make a pass at her now," only to find myself far too terrified to speak. I know she'll hit me, and I know she's so far out of my league it isn't even funny.

So I try to start subtle. "You're looking a lot better," I say while she's helping me tap a tree, then almost kick myself because it sounds like exactly what she expects me to say to her.

"Thanks."  
"I mean … a lot better," I say and lean up against the tree, trying to sound seductive and failing. She looks at me skeptically. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. Maybe that'll help – maybe I'll just look adorably shy and people will feel bad for me dying a virgin and send me supplies.

"Are you … okay?" she asks cautiously.

"I … I don't want to …" I almost say I don't want to die a virgin but that's so pathetic and desperate sounding I'll deserve to get hit. I almost say I've never even kissed a girl, but I decide to keep that to myself as well. "I … Never mind," I say awkwardly, and walk away with my cheeks and ears burning.

"You want your stuff back?" she asks.

"Oh, right," I say and step back towards the tree.

"If there's something you want to say to me, say it," she says evenly. She doesn't snap, or sound like she's angry at all. I suppose that's a good sign.

"I … I just … So what's the deal with you and Peeta?" I stammer. That wasn't what I meant to ask, but it's what came out. She remains silent, but now she looks angry. "I'm sorry … I just … I'm sorry. Forget I asked," I stammer awkwardly.

"Why do you care?" she asks at last, and I know that being hit is imminent. I'm glad Clint has the good bow at the moment … though even with the one he made I doubt she'll miss this close.

"Because … because …" I start to lie and say I think I'm in love with her … all though maybe that wouldn't be a complete lie … and instead I tell the truth. "Peeta asked me if we got separated or he got killed before I did, to keep looking out for you." Johanna and Marty are probably attempting to strangle me through the screen they're doubtless watching me on … or will be when they see it on replay. "Granted it doesn't seem like you need it," I say quickly, because her nostrils flare and her cheeks are red.

But then her face softens. "When did he ask you that?"  
"It was … It was the day he asked to be in the alliance. He asked when you went off to try to avoid Anthony Stark."

"I …" she looks very confused. She probably thought Peeta was just saying that to play the audience.

"He … I think I know where he is," I say.

"What?"  
"He was running towards …"

"Don't tell me," she says sharply, tears coming to her eyes. And I understand.

"You … You don't want to have to kill him. I understand," I say softly.

"His … his father's always been good to us. He always gives us more bread than we should probably get for trading cheese from Prim's goat …" And probably for game from Katniss, but of course she doesn't mention that. "He … he promised he'd take care of Prim for me … And Peeta … I don't think I can hurt Peeta … he was always so kind and … And he's from _home_." Home wasn't much, but it was home – I understood that.  
"I know … I don't think I could have hurt Juniper, either," I say. "Well he was … he was hurt, so I don't know how long …" That attempt to be helpful was absolutely not. The tears slide from her eyes and she turns her head to try to hide them from me but I hug her – does this count as making a move? – and she cries on my shoulder for just a little bit. A beautiful girl who only thinks of me as a friend crying on my shoulder … what an unexpected turn of events. This has never happened to me before in my life. Except all the other times it has.

She collects herself more quickly than all the other girls, at least. "I'm sorry," she says and wipes the remaining tears from her eyes.

"It's fine," I say sweetly, and manage a smile. Just like with everyone else.

We'll probably be trying to kill each other after the mission tomorrow. I'll probably not even try to get the upper hand and just let her kill me and get it over with.


	29. Chapter 19: Hope and Loss (Gale)

Chapter 19

Hope and Loss

Gale

Katniss and her allies are going on the mission tomorrow – the little boy decided. He's the one running the show for that little group, bizarrely enough.

I never call the others by name. They're the boy from 10, the boy from 7, the little boy, and the little girl. I can't let myself care.

I'm in the woods, hunting for game. It's hard enough keeping our families fed when there's two of us – I try to watch the Games all the time but of course I can't drop everything. I promised Katniss I wouldn't let her family starve.

Mrs. Everdeen is slipping again … it terrifies me because Prim will be totally on her own if something happens to Katniss.

Nothing's going to happen to Katniss, I remind myself.

And then, unexpectedly, I find myself caring about the others in Katniss's group. Is she going to have to kill any of them? It'll destroy her. She won't be the same when she comes back – I've seen how shattered most of the victors look when they come home, no matter how the Capitol frames it. And as much as I hate to admit it, I like her allies. Except the boy from 10.

I can't bring myself to wish any harm on the little boy or the little girl – that's probably a good thing. Not just because they're young – all though that's a big part of it. No – they're fearless and selfless. They've had plenty of chances to leave each other, and they never do. And I like the boy from 7 – he has no business in the Arena. Any more than Peeta does.

I can hate the boy from 10 though. He's abrasive and arrogant and the way he acts towards Katniss is creepy. But he's also the best ally she has right now – none of the others would be much help going up against the guy from 2.

A rabbit gets away from me, I'm so distracted. I yell in frustration, probably scaring off everything else in the area, and decide to go home for today.

That's when I hear it – a whooshing sound above my head. I look up and see something blazing across the sky. I hear and feel an impact close by. I don't know what it is and I'm reluctant to go get a closer look, but something is compelling me – a strong intuition, if you will.

And then I see two ravens fly by – and the bedtime stories I was told as a child come flooding back, and hope explodes in my chest. I smile and run, not knowing exactly what I'm going to find but knowing it's going to help.

I find the place where I think the bright light hit the ground. I don't know what I was hoping for … and why I'm disappointed. Maybe I expected Thor himself – someone to go charging in and save Katniss and her allies, and then the rest of us. But even though that's not what I see, I'm still thrilled.

Several of the trees are knocked down, and there's a huge gash in the ground where the thing made impact. And that thing … sitting a good four feet deep in the ground now, is Mjolnor. I'm not trained … but I bet even without training I can do some damage with the hammer of Thor.

I step forward, heart racing, climb into the gash, and put both hands on the handle …

I can't lift it. I knew it would be heavy, both from the stories and by the impact it made when it hit, but I can't even budge it. I try desperately, and for over an hour. I put all my strength into it and try to nudge it from every angle, but nothing works.

And then I remember … you have to be worthy to lift Mjolnor.

Whatever makes me unworthy probably won't be fixed by tomorrow morning.

I collapse by the hammer, resting my head against one face – exhausted by both the frantic attempts to wield it and the anger and sadness weighing on my chest.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I really don't hate Gale. (I know the fact I have to keep saying it works against that argument.) I'm applying very stringent standards of worthiness … the way I figure even most of the characters I like wouldn't be able to lift Mjolnor.


	30. Chapter 20: The Mission (Clint)

Chapter 20

The Mission

Clint

We set out as soon as the sun is up. Our plan requires that Cato be rather stupid … Fortunately, I don't think that's much of a stretch.

Stephen and Rue will set fires with a bunch of very green plants (which we're all currently carrying), which will produce a lot of smoke and, theoretically, lure Cato away from his campsite. Rue has a slingshot I made for her if he catches them … but I don't know how much it will actually help. Spruce gives him the epinephrine, and tells him how to inject himself if he starts having a bad attack. Katniss and I will take opposite sides of the forest and cover Spruce while he sets fire to Cato's supplies. Actually, he's going to grab whatever he can carry first … we could probably use some variety of food.

We know he's close to the cornucopia – why wouldn't he be? Rue leads the way – she's scouted everyone. She knows where everyone is but the girl from 5 and Drusa. I don't ask her where Brandy is … I don't want to know. I don't want to have to kill her.

I don't want to have to kill Rue or Stephen either. Or Spruce. And definitely not Katniss.

After this mission, I'm going to slide off into the dark like a coward … and go after Thresh. I'll tell him where they are … He won't like doing it either but at least he hasn't been with them for several days now. And he won't be cruel, like Cato has been. Then it'll be between us … if he doesn't manage to sneak up on me, I'll win that fight.

And then Peeta, if he makes it until then.

As soon as Anthony kills Brandy, I'll go after him.

I don't even know if I can catch the girl from 5 … but maybe she'll starve to death once we burn down Cato's supplies.

We march for what feels like the better part of the day, more silent than ever. Well, us older kids anyway – Rue and Stephen chatter away. I don't think the reality has set in for them yet. Stephen is telling Rue all about the power lines in District 5, how sometimes the men who work on them get to go outside their district. For all the good it does – the power still goes out half the time. Except during the Games and the Victory Tour … they make sure we see that.

I look at Katniss. She looks miserable, but I know she's thinking of her sister. In the end, she'll do whatever she has to – she'll be thinking of her sister starving if she doesn't get back to her. The same way Duke thought about me starving if he didn't get back. Maybe … Maybe Thresh won't have so much work to do.

I'm much more intimidated by her than any of the others – unless they sneak up on me they haven't got a shot. But her … that could be the finale of these Games. The two of us chasing each other through the woods, taking shots at each other. She's pretty deadly, even with the stupid bow I made … the more she uses it, the better she gets. And of course, if we're the last two, Haymitch won't have any trouble getting her a proper bow.

"Okay we're getting close," Rue says suddenly, and the little ones finally go quiet. We walk along, with ears peeled. Rue shifts her plants and takes Stephen's hand … and I can't stop myself. It's my last chance.

I take Katniss's hand. She looks at me, confused, but she doesn't let go.

We pass the Cornucopia by way of the trees on the edge of the clearing – we don't dare walk through the open clearing.

"Who did that?" Spruce asks in a whisper, pointing to the patches of dirt next to the podiums.

"Anthony Stark … I saw him digging the bombs up and dragging them off. He always did it real carefully – made sure Cato didn't see him. Cato started waiting for him … but he always got distracted running after Shale," Rue explains. I have no idea what Stark could use the now disarmed bombs for… but he probably knows exactly how to rearm them.

"So he was working recently?" I ask.

"He finished while Katniss was still sick," Rue explains. "He's … doing something else now. He's making a wire fence around the bombs." I have no idea what he's doing (well I mean, obviously it's a trap, but I'd like to know what kind of trap), and that makes me very uneasy. Katniss squeezes my hand.

We see the clearing not far beyond the cornucopia where Cato's got all the food set up. My mouth waters at the though of biting into an apple, especially with some peanut butter. He's not there, and we almost run in … but we want to make sure he stays gone. We spend about an hour setting up our smoke stations and other traps, and then make our way back to the original start point.

When we return, he's back – eating. I curse him – he looks like he hasn't lost any weight at all. Despite the rabbit and groosling I'm so hungry I'd kill him just to eat the crumbs of the sandwich he's made for himself. I wonder if it's peanut butter. "I think I can get him from here," I say, suddenly realizing.

"I could too," Katniss says. "Maybe not with this bow … but with that one," she says and jerks her head at mine.

"Are you guys one hundred percent sure?" Spruce asks nervously.

"Yeah," I say. He's closer than some of the coyotes I've shot. Probably closer than some of the squirrels and rabbits Katniss has shot too. We don't have to risk the little ones.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing at this point.

Spruce covers their eyes – I wonder if he still believes Anthony's offer. Or if it's just instinct for him. It makes no difference to them – they're annoyed. "Spruce!" Stephen whines and tries to pull his arm away while Rue just sighs and puts up with it.

I pull back my bow, and Katniss draws back hers – I'm a little insulted she thinks she has to back me up. "On three?" I ask. "I don't want you firing and giving us away when you miss."

"Fine – three. I'll laugh when I hit him even with … your masterpiece," she says back.

"One, two …" And then Cato hears something and goes running. It's Shale – she just made off with a bag of something or other and some water bottles. We didn't even see her until we followed Cato's eyes – she's good.

Well, so much for that.

Without being told, Rue and Stephen take off to light the smoke fires, to make sure he stays gone. Spruce takes a deep breath as he watches them go, probably more worried about them than himself.

Katniss makes her way to the opposite of the little clearing, and as soon as we see the first smoke signal, Spruce heads towards the huge pile of food. "Get some peanut butter," I tell him as he goes.

He spends what I feel is way too long picking over the pile for things he can fit in his pack. I want him to just grab some apples and peanut butter and then light the fires. But I'm sure he's looking for medicinal stuff … I don't know who he thinks he's going to be taking care of at this point.

Finally, he strikes the first match.

It breaks my heart to see so much perfectly good food go up in smoke – I may have been eating well for five years but I still remember what hunger feels like. Not least of all because I experienced it again just a few days ago.

He hauls over to my side – "I did it!" he says.

"I know … now let's get everyone before Cato and Drusa come back to investigate," I say brusquely. They're going to be _pissed_.

We meet up with Katniss, watching the food burn with the same hungry look as me. "I know … it's okay," I say gently and take her hand again. "It'll be over soon." I turn to Spruce.

"What food did you get?"

"Some bread, bottled water, some canned vegetables, and some apples."  
"Did you get any peanut butter?" I ask.

"Peanut … butter?" he asks, confused. And then I remember I never had it until after Duke won and he probably has no idea what it is.

"It's peanuts that have been crushed and mixed with stuff to make this spread – we've got to go back," I say. I legitimately don't want Katniss and Spruce to die without tasting peanut butter.

"I don't know if they gave them any …"  
"They always send peanut butter – it keeps through anything. And it's healthy too." I stop dead in my tracks, legitimately willing to risk going back to scavenge for peanut butter. "It's got protein and fat so it's great for times like this."

"Clint," Katniss says, laughing, and pulls me on. "It's probably on fire by now."  
"You're right," I say regretfully, and let her pull me on.

We head off to the site just ahead of the most recent smoke signal – we want to head off Rue and Stephen, and then wait for Cato ourselves. Assuming of course he does the smart thing and keeps coming, instead of running back to the problem he can't do anything about. He's stupid, but I don't think he's that stupid.

We move at a pretty good pace – a fast walk. "What do you think the announcers are saying?" Spruce asks with a smile.

"I don't know … I imagine they're just glad something's happening," Katniss says before I can.

"Whoever makes peanut butter is probably thrilled. Maybe you'll get a package just for being such a good spokesman," Spruce says. I look up at the sky expectantly, which cracks him up. And then we can't help it anymore – we're giddy and laughing – even though we know what's coming. So far, it's working out.

We listen to the mockingjays that flitter around the Arena – at first it's just innocuous bird song. It's quite pretty actually – I'm almost tempted to slow down and sing for them …

And then … they repeat something horrifying. The sound of a child screaming. And we run.


	31. Chapter 21: Goliath (Stephen)

Chapter 21

Goliath

Stephen

We're standing at the next to last pile of saplings. I light the fire since I've become so good at it. I'm trying to hurry because I know Cato's probably not far behind us. We get it lit, just barely, and then we hear him.

"Whoever's there – you're gonna pay for what your allies did!" he screams as he tears through the brush and the trees.

"Run!" Rue yells, and I don't have to be told twice. We take off as fast as we can. We know he doesn't climb well, so we look for the first tree that looks like we can both climb it fast but he can't. She hops into a tree I know I can't make and I go on. I find a tree that looks promising and launch myself into it, desperately hoping I don't find a branch that can't hold my weight since I don't really have time to test it.

I climb up as fast as I can. He's still yelling – I can hear his voice right at my back and I try to climb faster. He's heavier, but of course he's taller so he can go from branch to branch easier if they're strong enough to hold his weight.

I find a branch that can't hold me and it breaks. I slide down, and thankfully catch myself on a lower branch. "Stephen!" Rue cries, worried.

"I'll get to you, you little _rat_," he screams at her. I try to find another way up, but I feel his hand around my ankle. I try to stomp his hand with the other leg but that makes me lose my balance, and I fall on top of him (thankfully not on top of his sword) and we both fall to the ground. Rue screams for the older kids. I feel and hear something snap in my leg but I get up and run anyway, unaware of the pain because of the adrenaline.

I get about half a foot when he grabs me by the hair and yanks me back – raising his sword above his head.

At least I'll see my parents again in Heaven.

Then Cato screams and drops his sword, and pulls back, covering his eye as he howls in pain. I grab his sword from the ground and hit him in the head with the handle as hard as I can, then back away a few steps and fall to the ground, as I become aware of the pain all too quickly. His eye is a gruesome sight, with blood and … something else … eye jelly I think … leaking between his fingers. He takes one hand away and opens his good eye, glaring at me in fury. He makes a move towards me, and I pick up the sword and I hit him with the sharp end this time.

Blood oozes out of his belly. I try to pull the sword out but it's stuck, so I let it go, my hands shaking.

He stumbles away in pain, and disappears into the woods, looking disoriented and confused.

I look at my leg for the first time. It's more than a break – the bone is outside my skin. Which explains the terrible, slicing pain I feel in it. There's so much blood …

I look up to my savior – Rue, still holding her slingshot. I can't look at her and not think of David.

She slides down the tree to me, and helps lift me to my feet – I hold my broken leg so it doesn't touch the ground, and we hop along in the direction we came, hoping the next person we meet is one of our allies. It is – not two minutes later, Katniss arrives.

"Stephen! Rue!" she yells and runs to us.

"What happened?" she demands, looking at my leg. She kneels to hug me – and Rue shifts me to her arms. I'm sure she's glad for it – neither of us is heavy, but neither of us is strong either.

"Cato caught us," I say. "I think we killed him."  
"We haven't heard a cannon," Rue protests.

"But he … he was hurt real bad," I say. "Rue shot him with her slingshot. She took his eye out. Literally. And I stabbed him."

"With what?" Katniss asks incredulously.

"His sword. I couldn't pull it out after," I say. And then there's just enough warning to Katniss for her to turn me to the side before I throw up. She pats my back reassuringly while I get sick.

Clint gets there about the time Katniss does and watches us – I know the odds just got shorter on us and I wonder if he's thinking about killing us now while we're vulnerable.

When she's sure I'm done throwing up, Katniss carries me several feet away and lays me down in the grass. She takes out her knife and starts to cut my pants leg away from the wound. Spruce gets there last, huffing and puffing like I usually do. He kneels to look at the wound while Katniss gives him the very short version of what happened. "I can fix this," Spruce says confidently. "But I need help. Rue … bring me some sticks I can use to splint his leg. Clint – you're gonna have to help me set the bone. Katniss, stand watch. We haven't heard a cannon yet."

I yell and bite my tongue so hard it bleeds when he pops my bone back into place. "I'm so sorry, buddy," he tells me gently. "No painkillers, I'm afraid." Clint curses and looks like he's gonna throw up too. Spruce pulls some thread and a needle from his pack – gifts from Cato's provision pile, I assume. I know what's coming and I bite my lip and grip the grass I'm laying in.

Every time the needle goes in, a tear slides down my cheek despite my best efforts to be brave and I want to beg for death. Rue comes back with the sticks for my splints and kneels by my head, crying along with me. She rests her forehead against mine for the rest of the time. "Okay, I'm done stitching," Spruce says at last, and it sounds like he's about to cry too. I'm sure he doesn't like hurting people … even if it's to help them. The splinting is much easier – he places the sticks Rue brought and ties them to my leg with gauze bandages he takes from his pack. "I'm going to keep you still as long as I can," Spruce says. "But this should make it okay if you have to … walk." It still hurts all though the stitching is done. Rue kisses me on the cheek and the pain goes away for a second – my cheeks turn red and I feel dizzy in a good way. But the pain comes back way too fast.

I lift my head and see Clint and Katniss … comforting each other. With lips and tongues. Gee, I'm so glad my suffering set the mood for them. Or at least that's what I think until Katniss pushes him off, even though I could have sworn she was kissing him back. Clint looks mad even though he apparently just kissed her when she didn't want it, so she should be the one who's mad. Spruce looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't. We all stare at each other for a long time.

Then Clint says, "So, it's like that, then." He turns away and starts to walk into the woods, back towards the cornucopia.

"Wait, Clint!" Katniss calls and she starts to follow but Spruce stops her. I don't understand teenagers.

That's when we hear Claudius Templesmith's voice booming over the speakers throughout the Arena.

"Attention, tributes. An important rule change is now in play. From this point on, there can be two victors, provided they originate from the same District."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Cato losing his eye due to slingshot is shamelessly lifted from _The Kite Runner_.

In the book, Katniss notices Rue is a crack shot with a slingshot during training. I included this because I wanted 1. To give Rue a chance to kick some butt 2. To have Clint make a weapon that actually worked


	32. Chapter 22: Rules Change (Spruce)

Chapter 22

Rules Change

Spruce

We stand there for a long moment, listening for more, but that's it. I know Clint's not far from us … he probably just froze in the woods, listening, desperately hoping for more.

Katniss breaks out in a smile. "Peeta," she says softly, excited at the thought. She doesn't have to kill him now.

I look at Rue and Stephen – Stephen doubtless thinks of Shale, Rue doubtless thinks of Thresh. Somewhere in the woods Shale just probably started retooling her plans to include keeping Stephen alive, and Thresh probably just cheered Rue's name.

I step back from Katniss and take a deep breath. A tear slides down my cheek. The Gamemakers have ruled against me, and against Anthony – they're obviously not counting on us winning. I know how I'm going to die now. And really … I'm sort of glad.

Katniss looks at me, having the same realization. She looks sad for me. "Spruce …" she starts.

"What are you still standing here for?" I ask, almost angry. "Go find your love," I say, more gently.

"I thought that was Clint," Stephen says and Rue shushes him. She pulls me close and kisses me on the cheek. I manage not to get too excited about that since for all I know she's about to stab me in the back with her hunting knife.

"Don't give up yet," she says softly.

"I'll make the best of it," I say vaguely, and let her go.

"Rue … where was Peeta?"  
"He's not far. Just find the river – he's about a two hour's walk south of here on the left bank," she explains. Two hours in daytime … it'll be harder in the dark. "He's hidden really well."  
"Thanks, Rue," Katniss says and hugs her. "Be careful," she says softly, all though there's not much point at this point. She hugs Stephen as well.

"Be careful Katniss," he tells her as she leaves. Katniss is almost in tears as she leaves, but she knows what she has to do.

Clint comes back not even a minute later. I brace myself – I expect him to try to kill us. If he does, I'll fight him – I'll try to keep Rue and Stephen alive long enough for Thresh and Shale to get here. I don't know how successful I'll be but I'll try. But his bow is still over his shoulder. "Rue … where did you say Anthony and Brandy were?" he asks instead.

"There's about half a day's walk south of the Cornucopia, in a cave by the river," she says. "You have to really look for it … I wouldn't have known it was there if I hadn't seen him go in."

"Thanks," he says softly, and walks away the way he came. I take a deep breath … a little longer then.

Clint disappears into the woods once more, and there's a deathly quiet in the clearing. I hear crickets chirping in the distance. I find myself romanticizing it and thinking they're singing a lament for me and the other dead … even though I know they're just singing for mates. Almost the opposite of a lament, really.

"Spruce … are you going to leave us too?" Rue asks tearfully, and she hugs me.

"No sweetie, I'm not," I say.

"Spruce … do you think they'll change the rules again … so more of us can live?"  
"Maybe," I lie, but I can't make it sound genuine.

"Spruce … what do we do now?" Stephen asks. He's had the plans so far … it's sort of sad he turns to me now.

"I keep you squirrels alive until your district partners come for you," I answer honestly.

"And then what are you going to do?" Stephen asks. The way he and Rue are both crying, I know they already know. If Thresh doesn't kill me when he comes to get Rue, I'm going to go looking for Drusa. And she'll probably find me first. And if by some miracle I manage to get the upper hand against her … there's always nightlock berries. I can make it look like an accident.

"It's not fair," Rue says, and I shush her. She might get away with that talk since she's little … but I wouldn't count on it.

"It's okay … Rue. It's okay. You just … Just try to win for me, okay sweetheart?" I ask, kneeling in front of her. "You too, buddy," I say, and take Stephen's extended hand, even though I know they can't both win. But I'll do what I can to help one of them go home safe.


	33. Chapter 23: Resignation (Johanna)

Chapter 23

Resignation

Johanna

I literally watch Spruce give up. He knows the Gamemakers sided against him and he doesn't stand a chance. I see it in his eyes – the way he looks sad and yet, somehow, relieved. And then he hugs the little girl and asks her to win for him – even Flickerman has to take a moment after that. Marty sees it too – he's on his fourth cider of the day. "Damn fool," he says callously.

"He's not a fool … he's a damn martyr," I snap. "He never stood a chance … Not in the end." And I feel tears escape my eyes despite every effort to keep the dams closed. I hide my face in my hands so Marty won't see but he knows … and surprisingly he seems to understand. "The first one is always the hardest," he says, and pats me on the back, helpfully reminding me this will happen over and over again. "We can get him one last thing, though," Marty says after a while.

"What's that?"  
"We can get him something decent to eat." A last supper. I nod.

We all know what Anthony's plan is now. The mentors started to realize it early on but didn't say anything – and then Caesar Flickerman figured it out, and of course announced it to everyone. The betting started to go wild, and all the mentors pushing for a rule change doubled our efforts. Now that the rule change has made his plan even more effective, the sponsors are lining up. He's shaping up to be the best heel the Games have had in years. His plan is ruthless, even by the standards of the Games, and it's also brilliant. And people love him for it.

One by one, we watch as the other kids almost all get weapons or armor. Katniss gets a bow and arrows so she doesn't have to use the awful one Clint made for her – she throws the one he made away like it's a snake as soon as the shiny new bow and arrows are in her hands and keeps up her desperate search for Peeta. Then, a few minutes later, she comes back and picks them up again, and holds the bow against her cheek for a moment before apparently snapping out of it and strapping it over her shoulder.

Thresh gets a scythe – he's probably used one like it all his life to cut wheat, and using it on people won't be a stretch. As soon as it's in hand, he sets out for Rue. Everyone in the Capitol was touched when they announced the rules change and he shouted, "Baby girl!"

Clint gets a hunting knife and new arrows so he doesn't have to use the sharpened sticks he's been using. The Capitol audience applauds his search for the little girl Tony's been holding hostage all this time.

Shale gets a knife and a length of rope … I don't know how well she can actually use the knife, considering she seems to be more excited about the rope. We all saw her breathe a sigh of relief when they announced the rule change.

Anthony – whose grand trap is apparently ready, considering he's finally put the little girl in it – gets a cattle prod. I find it in me to joke that maybe Clint should have gotten that one. But of course, Anthony being Howard Stark's son, he starts pulling parts from his junk pile and modifying it – I don't know how or what he's doing to it but I'm sure he's making it a million times worse.

Even Rue gets a weapon – Rue gets a good slingshot (look what she could do with a makeshift one) and steel ball bearings. Stephen gets something to drink to make the bone heal faster. It apparently tastes terrible considering the face he makes when Spruce has him drink it.

Drusa gets a high quality piece of body armor. Instead of wearing it over her clothes, she slides her shirt off and pulls it on, giving the Capitol men that are hoping to get a piece of her if she wins a nice preview of the goods. I shudder and wonder if she realizes that – I don't know how much their mentors actually tell them.

Peeta finally gets the healing cream and antibiotics Haymitch has been going crazy trying to get – he rubs it on immediately.

Cato gets antibiotics and a much larger tub of the same cream – all though it will take much longer for it to heel such a massive wound, and it won't regrow his eye. Cato looks very grateful for it, and splashes it all over his now empty eye socket and the gash in his belly, and downs the pills without any water. We shudder as we watch him reach inside himself to put the cream on.

Spruce gets a steak, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and beer (not enough for him to get drunk but it still takes a lot of grappling with the Gamemakers). And, since Clint talked it up so much, a small jar of peanut butter. More accurately, he gets three portions of the food and water for the little ones, because we know he'll share.

I try to get drunk but Marty stops me. "Not until after," he says gently. "Not until you hear the cannon."


	34. Chapter 24: Ratings (Seneca Crane)

Chapter 24

Ratings

Seneca Crane

The bets are all over the place now – not only do the bets on individuals still stand, but now people are placing bets on the couples. District 2 is in the lead in terms of money, but a quick opinion poll on the website seems to show most people actually want either Rue and Thresh or Stephen and Shale to win, with Katniss and Peeta in a close third. And of course Spruce and Anthony are both still in it – I'm hoping we can get one more show out of Spruce when the chips are down, and Anthony has the best strategy we've seen in years. But the website and the betting agencies begin fielding us a disturbing question a dozen times over. A lot of people are trying to bet on the pair of Rue and Stephen, or Katniss and Clint, or Spruce and just about anyone. None of which are allowable even under the new rules. They want to know if it's legal to accept the bet – we tell them of course not but it makes me nervous. The site managers also let us know there's a huge demand for a second rule change – they want it to be the last two victors, regardless of district. Or to allow more winners – they want to see the little ones all go home safe, with or without Spruce, or Katniss to get to keep both the boys (to continue the love triangle or something kinkier).

I remember what President Snow said about dangerous precedent. I am beginning to regret my decision.

But then again … Anthony Stark may make all of this a moot point.


	35. Chapter 25: Bait (Clint)

Chapter 25

Bait

Clint

I make my way along the river – I could walk right over Peeta and not know it, judging by how well he camouflaged himself during training.

Of course she loves him. Look what he did for her – he risked his life to try to lead the Careers away from her. And what did I do? I grabbed the bow and ran off like a coward.

I think of the bow around my shoulder … Twice. I grabbed the bow and ran off like a coward twice.

I stayed in the trees with the river barely in sight for a long time so I wouldn't run into her. I passed her looking along the riverbank. I could have taken a shot … but I decided not to.

I don't know what I thought would happen. I just saw how she looked as confused as I did, probably feeling a mix of elation at getting an advantage on Cato, relief Rue and Stephen were alive, regret that they were still alive, and horror at that regret.

And I brushed a strand of hair back from her face and leaned in to kiss her.

At first I thought she wanted it. She opened her mouth and our tongues touched, and we stood so close our bodies touched, and I just wanted to take whatever time we had, and stretch it as long as we could, and do everything we could and who cared if our families and the whole world were watching. But then she pushed me away, and I knew.

Not that it matters anyway … even with the rules change we couldn't both live. I don't think a few days more together would make that any easier to swallow.

Has it been half a night yet? 

Just when I'm wondering if I should start looking for the cave as I go, I hear something. I strain my ears to listen – and for the second time in one progressively more awful night, I hear a little girl screaming.

I take off at full speed, running in the direction I think it came from and sure enough it gets louder. "Clint!" I hear, and I'm pretty sure it's Brandy. Not that I recognize her voice, but I don't know who else would be around screaming for me.

I run until my legs and lungs burn, and come to a clearing on top of a little hill.

What the hell am I seeing?

It's a rough circle of one high outer fence and a low inner fence, with space in between them, and Brandy is in it, screaming and crying. "Brandy!" I call, because her back is to me. She runs close to the inner fence and stops short, and I run full tilt towards her without thinking.

"Stop! Stop! It's electrified!" she screams and I manage to stop myself before I hit the outer fence. Now, of course, I can hear the buzz of the electricity … I can almost feel it. "He pulled my hair, and he slapped me!" Brandy complains indignantly. If those are the worst charges she can bring against him, I'm incredibly grateful.

"Why two fences?" I ask her.

"To keep me from hitting the bombs," she explains. I take a closer look at the space between the fences and it's hard to see in the dark but I see the patchy places where he reburied the bombs.

I look around at the trees – one of them has a branch that _might _hold my weight that goes out about halfway between fences. Even if I manage to jump into the space enclosed by the inner fence, I'll never be able to get her out again (or myself). "Get me out of here, please, Clint," she begs, sobbing.

"Hold on, Brandy, let me think," I say.

"I'd love to see that," Tony's voice says. I whirl on him and grab him by the collar.  
"How'd you get her in?" I demand to know. If I know that, I can get her out.

"You should have asked her that first thing," Tony says with a laugh, and I punch him hard in the face. Even that doesn't wipe the smirk off his face.

"Where's your girlfriend?" he asks, and I hit him again.

"Oh I'm sorry … guess I should say 'the girlfriend' since she seems to be everyone's," he says, and I hit him again. Blood's streaming from his nose but he seems unfazed. So I take my bow off my shoulder to kill him … I'll figure it out on my own.

But he whips out something I've only seen used on cattle and jabs me with it before I can get an arrow or dodge him. I go to my knees in hideous pain and a terrible scream escapes my mouth. I suddenly agree with the nosy Capitol people who disagree with people from District 10 using those on cows and goats.

"I was hoping we could do this the easy way. I'll ask again. Where's Katniss?"

"I don't know," I lie, when I can move my jaw again. He sighs and takes out a little square device.

"You see this? You lie to me again, I blow your little girl sky high. And then I turn this," he thrust the prod in my direction but thankfully doesn't contact me again. "On you again for a good ten minutes and kill you with your own weapon while you lie in the dirt drooling, if the voltage doesn't kill you by then. Pretty sure even I won't miss this close." I sit up slowly, hating him with every fiber of my being and hating myself for trusting him.

"She went to get Peeta."

"I know that – you got anything else for me?" he asks.

"He's on the river bank … I don't know if she's found him yet but when I passed her she was looking about a four hours' walk north of here," I say begrudgingly.

"Very good. Now … I know you also know where Cato is."

"Roughly. Unless Drusa's moved him or he's healed enough to move under his own power," I say.

"Well, you'd better hope that didn't happen … because I want him here, yesterday," I wonder how he knows all this stuff – until I see something in his ear. It's illegal for mentors to say anything about where the other tributes are in the notes they send along with the packages … but I don't think anyone's thought to make a rule against hacking the Capitol's feed. He's probably heard the commentary from Flickerman and Templesmith about what's been going on while he set this up.

"I'll go," I say bitterly. "I'll be back, Brandy," I promise, and then I get to my feet.

I walk a few feet away, and then turn to shoot. He was expecting it. He pulls a trigger and a little square of metal hits me in the chest before I can aim, and I get shocked again – I know most cattle prods can't shock you from a distance and I wonder how he modified it to do that – once I stop cursing and shaking.

"If you're thinking about trying that again – good luck getting past this fence without me," he taunts, and I have to admit he's right. "And watch out – Drusa's got a Kevlar vest."

I leave, with my hatred burning a fire in my gut. I go back the way I came, marching through the underbrush with my ears carefully peeled for everyone else who's trying to kill me.

And then as I skirt the edge of the cornucopia … it occurs to me. I know exactly what he's doing.

I just hope he's not crazy.


	36. Chapter 26: Glory (Drusa)

Chapter 26

Glory

Drusa

I find Cato propped up against a tree. I didn't know what to think when I heard the rule change – I know I should be glad, that this will multiply the glory to District 2. But I can't help but think something different – that it'll be like splitting it up. But then I realize everyone will be teamed up now, and it's actually kind of exciting. Cato can provide the brute force and I can provide the finesse to take on all the teams. I'll go back to District 2 not just a victor, but a history maker.

It was a nice bit of news after finding all our supplies burned to a crisp.

But now that I see him, I'm not so sure. "It's okay … I already got medicine," he says with a grimace as I look at the gaping wound. I see the empty bottle by his side and sigh – I hope we don't need any later.

"You heard the rules change?" I ask as I open the pack.

"Of course I did – it was right after …" his voice trails off and he looks embarrassed.  
"Who was it? Thresh?" I ask. I've been searching for Thresh everywhere but I can't locate him. I take out half the supplies I have left and give them to Cato … whenever he heals enough to get his appetite back he's going to need food.

"No," Cato says flatly.

"I'll see it on the highlights."  
"It was the girl from Thresh's district and the boy from 5, okay?" I laugh hysterically. "It's not funny!"

"Of course not," I say, biting my lip to keep from laughing any more. "Don't worry … I'll take care of them," I say reassuringly. The Capitol doesn't like ice queens. "It'll be over soon. I'll come back tomorrow – maybe by then you'll be well enough to help. Or the others will all be dead."  
"Yeah, yeah," he says. "Try to leave some for me."

That's when I feel the pain in my shin. I get to my feet despite the pain and look in the direction of the shot, knives at the ready – it's either Katniss or Clint.

Whoever it is, they're far enough off I can't hear them breathing. Finally I hear a rustling sound and I chase it.

I'm not that far away when I hear the sounds of a struggle and I hurry back – either it's a team or the person threw a rock to distract me, and either way I'm an idiot for falling for it. Even with the searing pain in my shin I make it back in time to find Clint fighting with Cato – he's wisely already put Cato between himself and the direction I'm coming from. Even wounded, Cato's not going to go down easily though – I almost wonder if I should just watch. Or at least, I do until Clint slips a little noose made from the thin belts that came with the sleeping bags around Cato's throat and tightens it.

I try to charge, but as soon as I'm in range to throw a knife I feel another arrow pierce my body – this one in the shoulder of the arm that was holding the knife. I drop it reflexively. He managed to shoot straight even though one arm was doubly occupied in pulling on the noose and he was trying not to get body slammed by Cato. Assuming he wasn't aiming for my head.

"Next one goes in your eye," he warns, and I know his aim was true. And then I know … he _knows_ about the body armor I got. I curse him for being a cheater.

"Save that for Anthony – he's … just follow me, if you can," he tells me. Cato finally stops struggling, and slumps to the ground so fast Clint almost falls down with him.

"Why don't you kill us while you have the chance?" I demand bitterly. I shudder – the shoulder wound is serious. It'll kill me if it's not treated soon – and it limits what I can do – but it'll be days before it does.

"I … I don't think that's what Anthony wants," he stammers lamely.

"What the hell does it matter? Just kill me!" I demand, losing my cool a little bit.

"No," he says. I don't understand him.

I rush him one more time – this time the arrow lodges in my thigh. So much for the next one being in my eye. Of course, I wasn't lucky enough for this one to hit the femoral artery – it missed by a couple of inches. I curse him and his poisonous mercy and demand that he do it right this time. I can't get to my feet right away to force him to kill me – but he looks as terrified by my demand as the attempt. He starts to haul Cato away, and I think, "Good luck with that, Clint. He's got at least sixty pounds on you."

He leaves me bleeding but not fatally – at least not for a while. I hate him for it. I sit in the clearing and sob and scream in fury, watching the blood drip onto the leaves, while he hauls Cato away.

Eventually, I get a grip. I cut the shafts from the arrow with some difficulty and considerable pain. And then I get to my feet – once I'm over the initial shock of pain I can walk. I find a long branch and lean on it as a crutch – I do most of the work with my right leg, considering it doesn't have two arrows lodged in it. He's not hard to follow – he's silent and careful on his own, but hauling Cato he's severely handicapped and he leaves tracks a blind man could see, and the sun is starting to come up.

I'm either going to kill him or I'm going to make him kill me.


	37. Chapter 27: Reunion (Katniss)

Chapter 27

Reunion

Katniss

I finally find Peeta on the bank of the river. Or more accurately, he realizes I'm here and calls for me. I hear his strangled cry of "Katniss!" and rush to his side. I find him in some bushes and mud– he's camouflaged himself so well I didn't see him. I probably wouldn't have even in daylight. I pull him free from the mud he's covered himself in as quickly as I can, my heart pounding. I'm so grateful he's alive. His pants leg is torn all to pieces, but the leg doesn't look bad.

"Haymitch sent me some healing cream after they announced the rules change," he explains, and I hug him tight.

"Thank you Haymitch," I gush and kiss Peeta on the cheek, playing up the star-crossed lovers angle. Even as I do … I think of Clint. I hope they don't show that kiss on the highlights if we win … I don't want to explain to Peeta why it took so long to push him off.

Thinking of winning makes me think of the allies I left behind … and I have to fight back tears. "Wow … you really do get around, don't you?" a voice asks. "I kind of feel insulted you never went for me."

I whirl around to see Anthony Stark. I lift my bow but as soon as I do I feel a horrible sensation pass through my body. It makes every nerve in my body scream and when it's over I go numb all over the place. Peeta screams too – it worked on him since we were touching.

"Please don't make me do that again," Anthony says, but it doesn't sound genine. He grabs my bow and quiver of arrows while I can't move.

"Can you walk?" he asks Peeta coldly, looking at his leg.

"Yes," Peeta answers stiffly.

"Good. Katniss, you're gonna take me to your little friends Rue and Stephen," he says sharply as I start to regain movement. He hauls me and Peeta both to our feet.

"Why don't you just kill us?" I say defiantly.

"I plan to eventually," he says coldly. "But … well, you'll see." He shocks Peeta again just so I get the message, and I start to march.

It's a short two-hour walk back to the campsite where I left Spruce, Rue, and Stephen … I knew he wouldn't leave. Not with Stephen's leg the way it is and Thresh and Shale still out there.

All the way there my heart races – I don't know what Stark's plan is. I don't know if I'm about to get them all killed – but the moment he points that prod at someone else I'm going to take him down.

As though he's read my mind, he dashes that hope. "Do you have any arrows that are just, you know, dull?" he asks.

"No. I can carve down a stick though."  
"Can you do it while we walk?"  
"Why?" He takes something from his pockets. "You put these on the arrows, and you can shock someone from a distance. I've modified my prod but … I don't think my aim is that good."

"What makes you think I'll …"  
"Because I'll have this pointed at Peeta's head, waiting for you to defy me," Tony cuts me off. Peeta looks into my eyes, like he's trying to tell me something. I think he wants me to run – to just let him get killed. But I'm not going to do that.

I find the stick and smooth it until it'll fire from my bow as I walk. I hope Stark will give me the devices now, but he's too smart for that.

When we get close, he positions himself so Peeta's between me and him, and tosses me one. "Just wrap the elastic around the shaft," he says. "The shock will be triggered by velocity. That means speed." He's being an elitist snob too – great. Because I didn't hate him enough as it is. I do as he says, and then I peek through the brush. Spruce is standing guard – Rue and Stephen are fast asleep. They're on the ground – Stephen couldn't climb with his leg.

I consider missing, but I know Stark will know I did it on purpose, and he'll take it out on Peeta.

So I fire and land the dull arrow square in Spruce's chest.

Spruce goes down like I did, screaming in pain, and of course Stephen and Rue are awake immediately. "Well, go get them," Stark yells, and I hate him for making me do this. I chase and Stark follows as closely as he can when he's still controlling Peeta.

I never could have caught Rue if she didn't try to help Stephen. As it is she practically carries him and I'm surprised she manages to get as far as she does before I catch them. "I'm sorry," I say desperately as I catch them. I pick Stephen up off his feet. He struggles but I manage to keep a grip on him. Rue reaches for her slingshot but Peeta grabs her – Stark still has the prod at his back so he has no choice.

"Your bow, please, Katniss," he says. He's still holding onto my arrows so it's useless, but I'm still reluctant to give it back … maybe I'm hoping I can find a sharp stick to fire without him noticing it. "Now," he says, and brings the prod dangerously close to Peeta and Rue. I hand it over then, and Rue turns her anger towards him, managing to kick him in the shins. Stark grunts and steps back, then laughs.

"Nice job, sport," Stark says and tousles Stephen's hair. "Getting a headstart with the ladies, and you picked a feisty one." Stephen spits on him, and gets smacked in the face for it. I turn my head … I can't look at Stark without wanting to do something that's going to get me and Peeta both killed.

Then Stark does something I don't understand.

He hauls Spruce to his feet – still shaky and numb from his experience. I assume he's about to kill him – or make me kill him. But instead he says it's time to go, and we all make our awkward way back the way we came, with Stark dragging Spruce and bringing up the rear. I don't understand why he doesn't kill him – I understand he's gathering us now. But there's no one he can use Spruce against, and he's not terribly useful unless Stark has a wound none of us can see, especially now that Stark has his axe. There's no advantage to keeping him alive. "What are you doing, Anthony?" Rue asks. He grabs her slingshot from her and stuffs it in a pocket.

"You're … You're going to use us to make them all fight and get it over with," Stephen stammers when Stark doesn't answer. He's slurring his words and he's out of it – I assume Spruce found something to give him for the pain finally.

"Very good, sport." Does … does he not realize the girl from 7's dead? Why is he bringing Spruce? If that's his misconception, none of us are eager to correct it.

He's asking for trouble doing it too – the way he's dragging Spruce he could very easily find himself struggling for his weapon, or for Spruce's axe, with a boy whose easily a match for him.

But Spruce doesn't struggle – I keep hoping for it, but it doesn't happen.

We come to a little hill. I see Cato and Clint at the top, with Cato still in very bad shape but better shape than he probably was as Clint holds a bow and arrow on him. "Very nice, Clint – keep everyone else back. You already know what's at stake … but I'd hate for anyone to get emotional and do something they'll regret before I have time to explain it to the others. Don't let any of them get away either – I'll be so annoyed I might do something drastic. Dead's better than gone." He grabs Stephen from my arms and I almost take the opportunity to try to get my weapons back but I notice Clint has an arrow pointed right between Peeta's eyes and I hesitate for just a moment too long, and Stark's beyond my easy reach. If I went for him now he'd have time to use the prod.

"What the hell's going on?" I demand, trying to stop shaking.

"He's got a … you'll see it. But he's got bombs rigged and he's got the trigger – he's already got Brandy and he'll blow her up if I don't do what he says," Clint says, his voice shaking. He's got the ranged weapon and the high ground, he's at an advantage. If we all charge at once a few of us will die but he can't take us all down before one of us gets to him – I wonder how we'd decide to charge all at once. I wonder if it's jealousy or knowing I'm most likely to try it that has him aiming at Peeta's head. I wonder how wise that is when Cato's the closest.

But Cato's apparently still too weak to do anything – the march here probably nearly killed him.

Stark takes Cato next – apparently he can only do whatever he's doing with only one person at the time. Or so I think until he gets Peeta and Rue at once. I take a long, hard look at Clint, and decide to charge. But Spruce puts a hand on my shoulder just as I start to move. "Wait, Katniss, wait … you can still win this," he pleads.

"You can come up now," Stark calls, and we all follow.

The sight at the top of the hill is something from my nightmares. A double fence – around the bombs I guess – and five hostages held inside. Cato's unconscious – Stark must have zapped him.

"In case you're planning to rush the fence – you should know it's electrified at a lethal voltage," Stark says smugly.

"How do you shut it off?" Clint demands immediately. "How do you get past the bombs?"

"I think we should let Drusa and Thresh get here, in the interests of fairness," Stark says. I almost ask about Shale but if he doesn't realize she's alive I don't want to tip him off.

Clint and I rush Stark – he hits Clint with the prod but doesn't have time to get me. I wrestle him to the ground and Spruce helps me hold him down while I get my bow and arrows back, and Spruce wrestles the prod and his axe from his grip. Clint gets slowly to his feet, shaking and stiff from the attack.

"How did you get past the fence to put them in?" Clint asks in a bellow.

"Not saying a word until Drusa, Shale, and Thresh get here," Stark says calmly. "In fact … maybe you should go invite them."

"No! I'm not going to be your puppet anymore!" I shout, and punch him in the face. "Tell me how to get past the fence!" He doesn't relent – he's already been punched in the face several times, judging by the bruising. Probably by Clint.

"If you're gonna torture me … maybe you should wait for someone who knows what they're doing, Stark says smugly.

Almost as soon as he says it, that someone gets there.


	38. Chapter 28: Lambs (Spruce)

Chapter 28

Lambs

Spruce

It's a blood-red dawn – I'm sure that's a product of the Gamemakers.

Drusa's hurt too – she has a deep cut in the process of heeling on her cheek where Katniss's arrow grazed her after she threw the tracker jacker nest, and, more pressingly, there are three arrows sticking from her shin, her thigh, and her shoulder. Courtesy of Clint I assume. I wonder why he didn't just kill her. I look at him curiously, and we share a look – and I know he knows it too.

Once Shale and Thresh get here, we'll all be in one place for the first time since the bloodbath. Tony's trying to save us.

Or he really is a devious, monstrous glory hound who told us that all along so we'd be more compliant.

But if he was lying … why didn't he kill me? What use do I serve at this point?

There's no time to figure that out. She descends on him, having figured out he's the one to blame for her misfortune. She has her knife at the ready. "Hold his hand out," she orders. Katniss does so while Clint helps her hold him down – Anthony looks scared for the first time. Clint looks away, and I assume I look as confused as he does – we don't know if we should help get the information or not. Drusa grabs his hand and holds out one finger with one hand, and brings forth the knife with the other. I don't know if she plans to cut it off or slide her blade under the nail – either way I find myself looking to the pen. Peeta's holding Brandy against his chest so she can't see, but Rue and Stephen stare in horror. Cato's still down – honestly I worry about him being in there with the others. "Stop!" I yell, before Drusa can draw blood.

"Are you crazy?" Katniss demands.

"Not … not in front of the kids. Please … not in front of the kids," I plead. "We can move him down the hill … Please, Katniss, Clint … not in front of the kids." Her eyes soften at that and Clint hangs his head.

"They're all going to be dead by noon," Drusa says coldly, and she forces the knife under Tony's fingernail. Blood gushes and I know that a very high concentration of nerves are severed. He manages not to scream.

"Stop!" I repeat and push her away. She could probably take me – she's as tall as me and better trained. "Please just … just let them die innocent. Please," I whisper. She rolls her eyes but nods. I'm not worth fighting right now. Clint and Katniss pick him up – with one on either side with a hand under his shoulder – and drag him down the hill.

Drusa does it again on the next finger and I can barely watch. He gasps but once again doesn't scream. He has to have been trained.

"You can try all you want, honey, I'm not telling you a thing until everyone's here," he says as she gets ready to slice under the third fingernail.

"Why not?" Clint asks.

"I want it to be fair," he says with a smirk even though tears are streaming from his eyes.

"You want what to be fair?" I ask.

"The last hurrah. The climax. I guess I'll tell you the general idea … when you all get here, you fight. I tell the last one how to get past the fences and the bombs … then we fight. It's the only way I have a shot – I can't take you all at once. I'm doing you a favor – getting it over with. If you get past me, the others are all pinned up for easy pickings – it'll be five minutes tops until you and your district partner are headed off for your victory interview."

"Unless of course you win," I say coldly. I shudder as I fight the Other Guy.

But there are bigger problems – Drusa apparently finds this arrangement acceptable, and she wants to start the fight now.

I grab her arm as she swings a knife at Katniss, and we fall to the ground. I'm completely right about her being able to take me – the only reason I'm not being stabbed is because Clint is desperately holding to her arm, fighting her. She throws an elbow his way and then it's Katniss saving me. I'm not sure if Katniss cares more about keeping me from getting stabbed or getting the knife away from Drusa.

And then it starts to rain.


	39. Chapter 29: Homeward Bound (Thresh)

Chapter 29

Homeward Bound

Thresh

I've been looking for Babygirl ever since the rule change was announced.

I've been a wreck since we were both drawn in the preliminaries. When we were both picked to go to the Arena, the only hope that was left to me was that I wouldn't have to be the one to kill her. I abandoned her – I hoped that I could get to the Careers before they got to her, or at least draw them away from her.

I've been hoping someone else would do it for me … now the thought fills me with terror. I live each moment dreading the sound of cannon fire.

The rain tells me where to go – I follow the edge of it, knowing I'm heading towards the others. The Games must be coming to an end point, and I'm late to the party. They're giving me a sign, while technically giving me a "hardship." They haven't figured out folks from 11 love the rain, because rain means life.

And then I find them, already fighting. Stark's nursing bleeding fingers, the girls who got an eleven are in a death struggle for a knife, the boy from 10's trying to help the girl from 12, and the healer looks incredibly confused and frightened.

It won't be long now.


	40. Chapter 30: Strategy (Shale)

Chapter 30

Strategy

Shale

The fight is my opportunity. I climb into the tree as quick as I can – I've become very good at it in the past week.

I notice Cato is awake – I groan but it's okay. Rue seems to have it covered – she has her slingshot at the ready. I wonder why Stark let her have it back.

I know what I'll do no matter who wins the fight unfolding at the bottom of the hill – I studied them all in training, and I'm ninety percent sure I know what they'll fall for. Some will be easier to trick than others. I just hope it doesn't take long – I don't know how long Stephen and I can make it without Cato's food supplies. I've been able to recognize some berries and roots but not enough to keep us alive.

I hope Stephen can climb. I don't know what I'll do if he can't.

I make my way out over the branch as cautiously as I can afford when I don't know when the fight will be over. I hope Dad isn't too worried watching me – he must be a wreck. I'm able to get out to the end. I attach the rope and lower it between the fences, and slowly lower myself onto the rope. I know my weight will be at increased pressure that way and I can only hope the branch doesn't snap.

It doesn't. I climb down it quickly, knowing the people of District 5 are cheering and that my Capitol sponsors are very proud. I couldn't care less about the latter, but I think of what the extra food and treats will mean for the poorest families in District 5, what it will mean to not only go home, but go home with my district partner at my side and the lowest body count of any tribute. I'll win on my own terms.

I followed Clint bringing Cato to the rings, and then I watched Anthony bring them all in at once. He has a switch that turns the fences off as he gets close, so his only concern was the bombs. I watched the pattern he jumped and made Peeta and Cato jump like a hawk – I remember it perfectly.

Left, right, right, left, left, left, right, left, right. There.

The inner fence is easy to jump.

"Stephen, come on!" I say to him and run in his direction. I expected him to run to me, but he hasn't moved from where he's rooted next to Rue.

"I'm not leaving them!" he protests.

"No, Stephen, go," Rue says urgently.

"Yeah, it's okay," Peeta says with a weak smile. Reluctantly, Stephen gets to his feet – his leg's in a splint but he can put some weight on it, which I hope translates to being able to climb. To save time, I carry him to the lower fence.

We jump the lower fence in exactly the right place, and I carry him across the bombs back to the rope. There's no way I can carry him up – even if I had the skills our combined weight would definitely break the branch.

He starts to make his way up, agonizingly slowly. I think of Katniss and Clint with their arrows and Drusa with her knives … he'll be a very easy target until he reaches the branch. But all I can do is wait.

Rue screams. "Rue!" Stephen shouts, calling attention to us.

"Stephen keep going!" I plead. I turn to see what the commotion is – Cato got in a cheap shot and now he's got her in his arms. He's going to snap her neck … I can't watch. I look up at Stephen and can only plead with him to keep going.


	41. Chapter 31: Not Quite Over (Johanna)

Chapter 31

Not Quite Over

Johanna

We all watch. There's nothing else we can do at this point. Only Stane is absent, and his absence is surprising. He's probably watching in a fancy bar with sponsors, already looking to line up cash for next year.

Spruce is trying to fight Thresh – it's purely self-defense. He's doing badly – Thresh's scythe has nicked him once or twice. I watch, hoping against hope he'll get a lucky blow.

But then I remember what he'll have to do to survive, and I hope Thresh kills him, because the boy I'll get back won't in any way be the boy I sent in if he has to kill those little ones.

The fight between Katniss and Drusa spills over into the bar where the mentors are gathered – Emilianus screams at Drusa to kill her one too many times and now Haymitch and Emilianus are brawling.

Shale comes to collect Stephen – she's every bit as brave and capable as she presented herself to be to Flickerman way back in interviews.

Cato's got the little girl, but Peeta surprises us all – he pulls a knife from one of his pockets (Anthony did a crap job of searching them apparently) and stabs at Cato desperately until he lets go of Rue. Peeta's merciless and stabs until his knife breaks off against Cato's jaw, and then pushes him as hard as he can.

Which means Cato hits the fence.

It's kind of a pity Haymitch misses it – he's still fighting Emilianus.

Stephen makes it into the tree without anyone seeing him, and now Shale is climbing up much faster. She's still in danger though … especially now that we know Anthony wasn't kidding about the fence – if she falls against it she's dead even if the wound isn't fatal.

Of course if they're smart, no one will shoot projectiles at her because she might fall on one of the bombs and kill them all. But of course she makes it to the tree too. She hauls the rope up with her – none of the others will follow her.

And then we hear the howls.

Shale and Stephen freeze – they're not leaving the safety of their tree. The battle stops instantly as the kids turn, bracing themselves for what's coming. Clint and Katniss notch arrows, the others stand back to back and hold up their melee weapons. They even give Anthony back his cattle prod.

"What the hell are they doing? That doesn't make any sense!" Chaff yells at the screen. It doesn't – why would the Capitol be unleashing mutts in the midst of this high human drama?

And that's when the screens go pitch black, and the Peacekeepers file in.


	42. Chapter 32: Abominations (Spruce)

Chapter 32

Abominations

Spruce

We get to higher ground when we hear the howling. We know it's not going to be just any dogs that come running through the woods. We can only hope the hostages are safe inside the fence – we see them, and we quickly note what happened to Cato but we don't have time to question the circumstances or wonder where Stephen is.

The first dog runs through the tree and Katniss kills it with an arrow to the eye – it tumbles to the ground in a heap and we all get a good look at it. It's … horrifying. It has human features – red curly fur and an undeniably human face, distorted by the snout and ears of a dog. Drusa makes a terrified choking sound behind me. "Daddy?" she asks in barely a whisper.

That's just sadistic, even for the Gamemakers.

The next one through the woods almost sends Anthony into hysterics even after Clint shoots it down – I can't identify who it is but obviously he can. The next looks like one of the tributes Clint's brother killed very memorably – he hesitates to shoot it and it gets close enough for me to kill it with my axe. "Why … why make mutts look like that?" Katniss asks. That must be what they call them in 12 – in 7 we call them abominations.

I know Juniper and Calico are coming and I feel like my mind's going to break. I tell myself it's not real, it won't really be them, that's impossible … it's just a sadistic genetic alteration … but my nerves are screaming.

Seconds after I killed the one meant for Clint, they start coming in waves. Clint, Katniss, and Tony fire rapidly, and the rest of us thrust our weapons at anything that moves and gets close enough. They seem to be targeted on the people they'll terrorize the most – a lot of them seem to attack at random, but mutts of the tributes Drusa's killed and the ones her father killed come after her, mutts that look like the tributes Tony's father killed go after him, the tributes who fell to Clint's brother's arrows go after him, Glimmer goes for Katniss …

And Doyle comes for me.

I know it's not Doyle, but I scream and start to sob when I have to kill him again.

Then there's a huge crash and the sound of whirling hovercrafts and the sick crackling of severed wires. The mutts don't stop so I don't have time to look up, but that doesn't matter.

"It's about time!" Tony yells. His voice is choked with tears – I wonder if he's been crying all along like me or if he's crying for joy now. I don't blame him either way.

It's right about this time that the mutts get so thick we can't keep them back and one sinks its teeth into my arm.

It's Juniper.

I wonder if anyone else literally feels their sanity break. I do – just before the Other Guy comes roaring out.

* * *

**Author's Note**

I am sure that the Capitol had more mutts on the ready to use against the tributes if they had found another use for them.

Also shameless Marvel reference for the win.


	43. Chapter 33: Not So Yellow (Clint)

Chapter 33

Not So Yellow

Clint

I have to keep my hands steady even though I'm terrified.

I thought I buried these memories deep. But the mutts bring them to the surface.

I was a kid, watching the huge screen in the town square as my brother fought for his life. He managed to get the bow the Gamemakers left for him during the bloodbath – and he used it without mercy. He killed twelve tributes – one of the highest body counts for any one tribute in the history of the Games. The wolf mutts keep coming at me – they look like the ones he slaughtered. I remember being twelve and sobbing and hugging Snowball as each one died, and their images are burned into my brain, despite the fact I told myself I forgot about it – the brother I knew would never have done that. My brother never came back from the Arena – a stranger who looked like him came back. When we first moved onto our ranch, I tried to sleep with him the way I had since I could remember – and he woke up in a panic and almost strangled me until he was fully aware of his surroundings. Then he sobbed and apologized over and over again while he hugged me so tight I thought my ribs would break. I never tried to sleep with him again.

The worst is the mutt that looks like Dusty – the girl from our District. Duke killed her as gently as he could and she died in his arms, right towards the end of the Games, and she was the only one he showed any emotion over killing. Maybe he loved her like Peeta loves Katniss … the way I love Katniss … I never wanted to ask. I can't even kill that one – Spruce does.

Finally, I hear the boom and the whirring that means Tony's rebels are real, and here. I could cry in relief, if there was time.

That's right about the time the mutts get so thick on us we can't keep them back – I stop firing arrows and just hit out with my hunting knife as fast as I can. I feel jaws sink into my legs, my arms, my back … every bite is horrible agony. They don't just bite – once they get a hold they shake their heads, trying to rip chucks away. Actually "trying" isn't the right assessment of their success. I feel things tear and I scream in pain – we all do.

That's when Spruce loses it – he gives this yell, not of pain or fear but elation, and starts swinging his axe so wildly I don't think he even cares if he hits one of us. He charges off deeper into the fray and the worst part is he's _laughing_.

We hear a couple of the mutts give death screams as they hit the fence – I'm just glad the kids are safe inside it.

There's two hovercrafts – one's over the cage and the other's over us. They take Tony first of course – he hands me the cattle prod he's been using. I'm grateful to have something longer than my arm to fight with – but even that doesn't stop the endless biting and tearing.

There's the sound of something like firecrackers and some of the mutts fall – the people in the hovercrafts don't dare shoot close to us but I'm grateful that they're thinning out the sea of mutts.

They get Thresh and Drusa next. Drusa tries to fight them, but by now she's almost dead – if they hadn't come for us she probably would have only had a couple of minutes left. Thresh picked her up and reached for the rebel who reached for him. They almost pull a mutt up with them but Thresh slices its head off with his scythe. The body lands on me and I fall to the ground under its weight and drop the cattle prod, and now I'm worse off than I was.

"Katniss!" I call to her. She's as surrounded as I am, but she takes my hand trying to pull me up. I keep my chin on my chest so my throat isn't exposed, but one bites into my shoulder and it isn't going to be long.

"No, get off him!" Katniss yells desperately and stabs at the mutt on my shoulder. I think she gets its eye because it lets go, and these things are hard to kill. I find myself on my feet again but I'm bleeding from everywhere now.

I feel us being jerked upward and I know they've finally come for us. I hold on tight – the rebel has hold of Katniss. She's got a death grip on my elbows and I've got a death grip on hers.

And then I feel the jaws on my leg, and it isn't eager to let go no matter how much I kick it. "Let go," I tell Katniss. I want her and the rebel who grabbed her safe on the hovercraft – they can come back for me.

"Hell no," she answers back, but I let go and she can't hold me on her own, not with the mutt weighing me down.  
"Clint!" she screams as I go to the ground once again.

As soon as my arms are free I stab it in the eye.

It looks like Stephen and that bothers me, but I don't have time to worry about it.


	44. Chapter 34: Rescue (Katniss)

Chapter 34

Rescue

Katniss

He let go.

He let go.

He let go.

I don't know who's picking us up, and frankly I don't care. All I know is Clint's still being torn apart by mutts.

I try to fight the people in the hovercraft, but they force me to a seat and someone cuts at my forearm. "What are you doing?" I demand. I want to know why they're hurting me, and more importantly why they're wasting time with that when they could be saving Clint and Spruce, and anyone who's still left in the pen.

"We're getting the tracker out," a young woman in an odd black suit explains.

"Coulson, we have to go," someone calls from somewhere else in the craft.

"No!" I scream.

"We've almost got them all," the man who pulled me up says as he shifts his rope, about to go back down for Clint.

"No, now!" the pilot insists, and the door starts to close just as the woman throws the device she pulled from my arm out of it.

I push the woman who just pulled the tracker from my arm away and rush for the door. Maybe I can get out of it before the doors close.

"No!" the man who pulled me up shouts and catches me, stopping me. I'm bleeding all over the place but I fight him hard. He's good though – by the time I break free of his arms the doors are closed. I kneel by the door, shaking.

"Who all did the others get?" the man who stopped me calls to the pilot.

"Shale, Stephen, Rue, and Brandy."

"Not … not Peeta?" I ask. Peeta should be safe in the fence … but I don't know what the Capitol will do to him if it looks like he helped in any way – because I'm pretty sure whoever picked us up just committed treason.

"It's going to be okay," the man who picked me up reassures me. He's a few years older than me, and he looks like he could come from the Seam, but I've never seen him in my life.

"What about Clint? What about Spruce?" I demand.

"Cassidy's a medic, she's going to look at you," he says, dodging the question. I don't let him.

"We can't leave them!" I shout, even though we've already turned to leave them.

"Katniss, it's going to be okay …" he tries to reassure me.

"No it's not! The mutts are going to kill them!"

"If they're lucky," Anthony Stark says from his seat – I hadn't even noticed him. He and Thresh are in bad shape … but Drusa's in the worst shape of all of us. There's no color in her face and she's unconscious – one of the medics is already looking her over. I wonder why and then remember she was already bleeding when the mutts attacked. I won't be sad if she doesn't make it.

I hate Stark for being the first to get picked up – he only has a few bites and of course the wound where they cut out his tracker. I launch myself at him and the man who picked us up grabs me around the waist and pulls me away. I stomp on his foot and elbow him in the stomach and get away and start hitting Stark in the face – it's Thresh who pulls me off this time.

"Half chewed and she's still fighting – definitely the Mockingjay," Stark says, and I have no idea what he means.

All I know is that Spruce and Clint are probably getting eaten right now, and Peeta's at the mercy of the Capitol. And I've had a full experience of their mercy.


	45. Chapter 35: Victory (Spruce)

Chapter 35

Victory

Spruce

I come to myself in a tree. By then there's only a few mutts left. I'm shaking. Not from fear, but blood loss.

All though I am afraid.

I'm immediately aware the hovercrafts have left – the whirring sound that promised freedom is long gone.

Clint's still on the ground, firing one of his last arrows into a mutt. He looks bad. Maybe we'll both luck out and die before the Capitol gets hold of us.

Barely do I have the thought when the last of the mutts suddenly run away. I notice Peeta's still in the pen, looking confused and terrified.

Nothing happens for a minute, and I wonder if they expect us to go through and kill each other. If Peeta can get out that fence, we're both dead. But I have no idea if he can.

I drop my axe from the tree and let myself fall out of it. I'm not high up, and I'll probably fall if I try to climb anyway.

"Clint," I call weakly, and he stumbles towards me. He has one arrow left. We can kill each other, and let Peeta win. Or we can all face the wrath of the Capitol – I desperately hope for the former. I wish he had two arrows left – I'd let him kill Peeta first, and spare us all.

We hear the approach of Peacekeepers and try to hurry – I raise the axe and he raises the bow. But then both of us feel the now all-too-familiar sensation of being shocked and our weapons fall to the ground.

The Peacekeepers drag us out of sight, and as soon as they do, two cannons go off and Claudius Templesmith declares Peeta the winner.


	46. Chapter 36: Escape (Katniss)

Chapter 36

Escape

Katniss

The shells rock the hovercraft even though they miss. The man who pulled me up is the only one trying to do something about the shells – he's in a pod with a gun, firing at the crafts chasing us. There are other crafts that are apparently on our side, and they're doing their best to give us cover.

"Coulson – didn't you bring any more soldiers?" Stark demands. There's a couple more weapons pods that are unoccupied.

"We were keeping it as light as possible – we didn't know how many people we were gonna have to carry in each one." The thought makes me miss Spruce, Clint, and Peeta even more. Especially Clint.

Stark does something that shocks me – he curses and slides into one of the pods and takes over a gun himself.

"Stark, no!" the man – Coulson – protests.

"I've been risking my life for weeks – not going to stop now," Stark answers coolly.

I'm not letting that creep have all the fun. "Can they see who's firing?" I ask.

"No – we don't have to drop our cloaking to fire," Coulson calls over his shoulder. That's impressive – and they have a definite advantage that way. I slide into one of the pods, wondering if I can figure out how to use the guns. Stark whistles.

"Definitely the Mockingjay," Stark repeats. I will hit him if he says that again without explaining.

I struggle with the guns for a bit but it's actually not hard at all – you just pull it around on a pivot to aim and squeeze the trigger. Unlike us, they have to become visible to fire, and it's hard to time it just right.

Most of the time I don't hit anything at all – but I do land shells on one of the attacking hovercraft. I don't see if it actually takes it down though because I've already moved on to the next craft.

From where I am in the pod, I see the other hovercraft get hit. It stays in the air but now it's not flying as well. The pilot curses, and then adjusts hers so she's helping it along. I shake with the impact as she flies partway underneath it, propping up the damaged half. It's going to be a long ride back to … wherever it is we're going.


	47. Chapter 37: Almost (Stephen)

Chapter 37

Almost

Stephen

I'm thrown from my seat by the blast. I'm hurt in several places, but nothing feels as bad as my leg did.

I wait, bracing myself for a crash, listening to the sound of wind roaring right outside the hole in the top of the craft. I feel a bump, but we're still in the air.

I look up and see Shale, Brandy, and our medic, looking safe and sound. I cheer.

Until I look to my other side and see Rue.

Her face is pale, and I can see why – there's a piece of shrapnel in her back, and there's a lot of blood. "Rue?" I ask, crawling to her side. She smiles weakly – blood drips from the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not hurt … I don't feel anything …" she says. I'm no healer … but I know that isn't good. "Is everyone else okay?" Tears sting my eyes – of course she wants to know that.

"Yeah … yeah … we're all fine," I say, trying not to cry. I don't want her to know anything's wrong.

"I guess they didn't get a very good shot," she says with a smile, and tries to laugh, but that only makes her cough blood.

"No, no they didn't," I say and force myself to laugh. I move closer and put my arm around her, but I'm still laying on the floor. I don't know if she can feel it.

"Did the other craft get all of them?" she asks.

"I think so," I say even though I have no idea who they got.

"That's good," she says softly.

She doesn't say anything else.

I lay like that next to her for what feels like a long, long time but is probably really only a few minutes, praying for a miracle that doesn't come.

She takes a shuddering last breath, and the tears come sliding down my face. I kiss her on the forehead.

I stay where I am until Shale crawls to my side and gently pulls me away.

One of the rebels pulls a blanket from the back and lays it over her body.

We find our way back into our seats, and I find it surprisingly hard to care if we make it the rest of the way to their base or not.


	48. Chapter 38: Pierced (Katniss)

Chapter 38

Pierced

Katniss

"Reinforcements are on the way," the pilot announces finally. We all breathe a little easier.

"Everyone is taking too long to do everything … am I the only one on schedule for this mission?" Stark asks, and I can just _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

"Don't get cocky until we're behind the line," Coulson snaps. We're over the middle of nowhere … I couldn't even begin to say where we are now.

Almost as soon as Coulson says it, we feel a shell hit. It wasn't direct enough to damage the craft enough to put it out of the air, but shrapnel flies.

"Stark!" I cry out.

The shield of his pod was shattered, but thankfully he was strapped in, and the part holding him in wasn't damaged. Coulson goes on firing, and his hands are steady – I can't be that calm.

Thresh and the medic pull him into the craft proper, and Thresh curses a blue streak when he sees him.

"How bad is it?" I ask, turning to look.

"If you're gonna look, get out of the pod," Coulson snaps at me, and I remember what I'm doing.

"Two minutes to the line," the pilot calls.

"Just make sure we get there, Danvers," Coulson calls back. She does.

About two minutes later, I feel a huge bump as we apparently cross whatever line Coulson was talking about. We almost lose the other craft but the pilot, Danvers, does some quick work to keep us under them. Suddenly a bunch of craft I haven't seen are visible, and as soon as we're behind them we're covered. The Capitol crafts don't stand a chance.

Coulson is out of his pod even before me, scrambling to Anthony's side. It's definitely bad – there's shrapnel deep in his chest and he's not conscious.

"Is he going to make it?" Coulson asks the medic.

"I can't say until we get back to base," the medic says.

"But we will get back to base?"  
"Yes – he'll make it that far," the medic answers. It must be close, considering how very bad he looks.

We come to a huge craft, probably bigger than the whole town in District 12, hovering barely off the ground. The pilot goes directly on top of it. "We're not landing on it!" I protest.

"We are. Strap yourself in," Coulson answers flatly, and I do as he says. Thresh helps Coulson get Anthony into a seat and strap him in, and then they find their own seats.

First the pilot disengages from the other craft – it lands very roughly, but Coulson doesn't react as though it was a bad landing so I don't either. Even with our craft damaged, the pilot manages to land ours pretty smoothly.

As soon as the doors open, I jump out and kiss the ground. Thresh does the same. As soon as I touch the ground, the pain is almost unbearable – the adrenaline fades all too quickly. A team of medics rush past us to look after Anthony and Drusa.

I look up to the other craft, where everyone is disembarking, and run to hug Stephen. I see that he's crying and I assume he's just scared by the events, or worried about the three we left behind. Or possibly even crying at the sight of me – I can barely move. But then I see there's blood on his shirt. "Stephen?" I ask.

Someone in the strange black uniform that the pilot and Coulson are wearing carries out Brandy, also crying, and then Shale stumbles out. Another uniformed person comes out of the craft slowly and carefully, carrying Rue in her arms, wrapped up in a blanket.

Blood soaks through the blanket and I know immediately why Stephen is crying.

"Babygirl?" Thresh asks, his voice choked with tears.

Time seems to stop. I hold Stephen close and watch the woman carrying Rue walk away until I can't see her anymore. Thresh chases after, as though hoping it's just a sick joke, forgetting about the blood pouring from his own wounds.

Peeta … Clint … Spruce …

Now Rue.

Tears stream down my face. Shale puts a hand on my shoulder. Even that hurts.

Then a group of rebels surround us, carrying guns. "You're going to need to come with us, Ms. Everdeen, Ms. Montgomery," they say. Shale and I look at each other, confused.

"Where are you going to take them?" Stephen asks weakly.

"Your friends will not be harmed – we just need to get Ms. Everdeen to the infirmary, and keep them both secure until we can insure the safety of their families." Stephen doesn't have a family to secure.

"Please follow me, Mr. Rogers," another uniformed person says and takes Stephen by the hand.

"What about Bucky?" he asks as the man leads him away. I assume he means a friend or something.

They lead us into interior of the ship – through a maze of this impressively sterile white structure. Shale watches it closely – I'm sure she's trying to figure out how she's going to escape if she needs to.

A team of medics meets us on the way to what I can only assume is the infirmary and put me on a white stretcher – it's a welcome relief since my body's been screaming ever since we landed, and things slowed down enough for the adrenaline to wear off. One of the medics tends to Shale's wound from the tracker right there in the hall, and that's the last I see of her for a while.

There's a commotion at the infirmary – Thresh isn't happy about being forced to leave Rue's side. "I can assure you, Mr. Conners, that Rue's body is being treated with the utmost respect," someone tells him. The cold, clinical tone of her voice doesn't help.

They sit me on a little hospital bed and ask me to hold out my arm. They have an IV of something. "What is this?" I ask skeptically.  
"Just trust us, Ms. Everdeen," a young male doctor says. I don't have much choice do I? I hold out my arm, and the doctor finds a vein. "Try to think of something happy – you might dream about it," he tells me. Yeah right.

The tears that I thought had stopped spill from my eyes once more as I try desperately to think of my allies, all alive and happy. But all I can think of is Spruce's crazy laugh and Peeta stuck in the pen with nowhere to go and Clint being torn apart and Rue, wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket. He sticks me with the needle, which hurts for just a second before I fall into a deep, deep sleep.

I don't have any dreams, good or otherwise.

I stir slowly, very groggy and disoriented. "Are you okay, Katniss?" a familiar voice asks me.

"No," I say grumpily. I still hurt everywhere, though not as badly as I did. And Rue's death comes crashing down on me like a ton of bricks – I can't even begin to process it in this confused state.

"All right – we're going to move you to your quarters and let you sleep, okay?" Coulson says. What am I supposed to say?

I'm vaguely aware of being carried somewhere else, and then I go back to sleep.

I wake up once more, this time more aware. I look around the room, slowly gathering the strength to get up.

I look around at my quarters. They're very nice … but there are guards at the door. A cell's a cell. It's a white room filled with a lot of the nice things we had at the Capitol – a big soft bed, a nice little chest of drawers, some comfortable-looking chairs (all white) and a huge television. I look at it for a long time, trying not to think about Spruce, Peeta, Clint, and most of all Rue. But the more you try not to think about something, the more you think about it.

I finally get out of bed, and I undress before checking to see if there's a change of clothes for me.

There is – a white version of the black uniform everyone else is wearing.

I use the shower before I put it on. I let the hot water wash away the filth of the Games and soften the pain in my muscles. I stand under the hot water and think about home, wondering if I'll ever see it again. Will the Capitol retaliate against my family?

I try not to think about the boys who are most certainly either dead or being tortured right at this moment.

I try not to think of a little figure wrapped in a bloody blanket.

As soon as the white uniform is on, I think about food. Even with all the horror I've been through, I'm desperately hungry.

As though someone's read my mind, there's a knock on my door. I open it and find only the guards. "Ms. Everdeen – you're invited to supper if you choose." Of course I want supper – do they not watch the Games here?

It occurs to me they very legitimately may not.

I follow the guards to a sterile white room very like all the other sterile white rooms in this place. But this one has food. Shale and Thresh are already here, eating.

I pick up a plate and pile it high with food.

They have the decency to let us eat before they make their offer.

A tall dark-skinned man enters the room. He wears a long leather jacket and an eyepatch over one eye. I wonder if the eye under the patch is totally gone or just damaged, but that's the least of my concerns right now. I want answers. Apparently so do the others.

"What is this place?" Shale asks forcefully, the first to speak.

"Why didn't you get us sooner?" Thresh asks, and it's a painful question.

"When are you going to go after the three who got left behind?" I demand.

"Ladies, Thresh … there will be plenty of time for questions later," he says. "But first, I need to ask one. What are you prepared to do, in order to ensure no one will suffer what you did ever again?"

It's a loaded question.

I almost say "Anything," but then I remember Prim and my mother, and Gale and his family, and I hesitate to speak.

Thresh and Shale hesitate as well, I suppose for the same reason.

"Ah. Disappointing. Let us know when you change your minds." He says when, not if.

As he leaves, he pushes a button on the wall. A screen lights up.

We see Peeta being interviewed as victor.


	49. Chapter 39: Suspicion (Johanna)

Chapter 39

Suspicion

Johanna

They pull us in one by one. I tell them the truth – I had no idea what was going to happen. If I had, I would have told him not to mention "his cousin" to anyone and stay close to the others, not griped at him constantly to be a loner. They have me saying that on tape – they spy on us in the rooms. I've always known they do.

Emilianus is a piece of work – instead of being upset his tribute is dead he's upset she didn't get the chance to win. I'm sure he was never a very strong suspect.

Eventually the Capitol decides the only mentor to blame was Stane – who took off just before the climax of the Games and hasn't yet been found.

There's some suspicion that there's an inside man among the Gamemakers – suspicions fueled in no small part by the unusual size of the Arena this year and some of Seneca Crane's actions – the rule change, letting so many days go by without forcing a confrontation …

Unsurprisingly, a few days after the Games, Seneca Crane commits suicide. No one believes he did it for any reason other than being given only the options of "kill yourself" or "be executed far less pleasantly." Plutarch Heavensbee is to succeed him next year.

Marty and I go back to District 7. I act tough and unfazed for the cameras and for the other mentors, and I keep it together until I get into my cabin.

I think of Spruce at Reaping Day – covered in blood from helping a poor lumberjack, probably for a loaf of bread.

I think of him getting drunk on the train and lusting over Katniss and trying to be friends with the other kids even though it was supposed to be a fight to the death. I think of him asleep in the trees, with the little kids sleeping on him like a pillow, completely unafraid of him. Most of all, I think of him telling Rue to win for him. He was just a kid – a sweet kid who deserved better.

I think of the kid I was just a few years ago.

I take some of my sleeping pills before I can think about it too hard.


	50. Chapter 40: Carry On (Multiple)

Chapter 40

Carry On

Multiple

Duke

I don't believe them until Marcellus – the same escort who took me to my Games – shows me the footage. He shows me my little brother being torn apart by mutts – the girl from 12 tries desperately to save him but she gets pulled away by the rebels. Marcellus gives genuine condolences as I start to sob.

Right after Marcellus leaves, I go out and pet his stupid favorite goat. It's been bleating for him ever since he left – and of course I can't explain to the stupid thing he's not coming back.

I think about killing it. Just wringing it's stupid neck here and now.

But I can't do it.

I try to tell myself it was worth it. That I gave him five years of a good life with what I did.

I think of him running around the land when we got it – cheering and doing cartwheels like he'd never seen open land before. I think of the way he ate and ate and ate until I teased him he was going to get fat the first few months we were in the house. I think of watching him suddenly turn into a man and laughing and drinking and riding horses – even though people from other districts probably think we all ride horses, most of us never get to. Hell, I even think of him with the girl from 12. I was really hoping they'd change the rules again – I thought maybe they'd let him keep her.

Every minute he got to live was worth it.

But it doesn't ease the pain now.

I leave his stupid goat and go back into the house. I open the door to his room and think about how much he tried to pretend he was excited to sleep on his own so I wouldn't feel bad about almost killing him. It's an awful shade of blue … he repainted it about twenty times. The sheets aren't made up … of course he didn't make his bed on Reaping Day. I would have died of shock if he had.

Death sounds nice at the moment

I sit on his bed and cry.

Clove

I wait until the rabbit is close.

I put a knife through its eye. It dies too quickly.

Inside the house, I hear Vinicius screaming and throwing another fit. I'm sure some of my little brothers and sisters will get hit. He hasn't hit me since I was big enough to fight back. Coward.

The Capitol says the rebels were all killed. I don't know if that's true. If they weren't, my sister might still be alive.

If anyone can escape, it'll be her.

I see a lizard. I make sure I don't kill that one too quickly.

Lavender

I thought it was a good thing when the screens went black. I thought it meant they all got to come home and Katniss and Peeta got to live happily ever after and Spruce could be a real doctor and find his own girl and Clint could marry Drusa (since he didn't want her to die he must love her) and Brandy and Anthony could get married and Rue and Stephen could get married. I think I would like Stephen.

But Mommy says Rue and the others lost while the screens were black and only Peeta gets to go home. That doesn't make sense – Rue has to come home. What are we going to do without her? Whose going to play with me before bedtime and help Mommy cook and tell the men when it's time to quit work?

I don't understand why she's not coming home, and I cry.

Arenite

I had such high hopes. I never expected Shale to last a week – let alone to have odds on her as high as she did. I watched and bit my nails to the quick as I watched, waiting for the end to come every hour. The first time I had any hope was when I saw her climbing into the cage – I realized how close she was and that she had to have a plan. I cheered for her as she rescued that little boy – so brave. She was almost home – I let myself believe it for the first time.

The women in my life are never mine to keep.

I sit by Crystal's grave and tell her how well our daughter did, how she almost won. And she did it without killing anyone or sacrificing her integrity.

I don't know how I'll ever get up and leave.

Willow

A pretty lady with long dark hair comes and brings me a fancy machine for my lungs. Mommy says she was Spruce's friend, that she tried to help him win the Hunger Games.

I still don't know what they mean when they say Spruce isn't coming back. I miss him.

Holly

My son is born. He is beautiful and perfect, despite being born too early. For a few hours, I am the happiest woman in Panem. Until I remember that Juniper will never see him. I think of all the days we had together – learning to carve together, looking for edible plants in the woods to supplement our meager earnings, even recently when she would put a hand on my belly and feel my son kicking. It's so unjust that the only person who was more eager to meet him than me never will.

The injustice of that turns my joy to sorrow, and I bathe my son with tears. I vow to my son, far too young to understand, that he'll never compete in the Games if there is anything I can do to stop it.

There are already murmurs of rebellion throughout 7 – we've had enough. That boy, the one who was Juniper's district partner … something about his eyes when they announced that rules change and he knew he would die … we could tell he meant it when he told the little ones from 5 and 11 to win for him. He could have killed them so many times, could have killed most of them – he was strong enough. More personally for me, I remember his face when he saw Juniper's name on the list of dead – I have no doubt he would have protected her if he'd gotten the chance.

If I'd had a daughter, I would have named her for her aunt. But because I had a son, I name him Spruce.

Prim

The house still seems empty without Katniss.

I don't believe she's dead. If the Capitol knew she was dead, they would have brought us her body, and paraded the footage of them shooting down the second hovercraft all over the news. I can always hope she was in the one that wasn't shot.

No, I know she was in the other one.

Wherever she is, I hope she's safe.

Gale isn't taking it well – he's in the woods all the time now.

All I can do is go on.

I milk Lady and make cheese for trade. I help Mom with patients – in fact I've all but taken over for her these days. I keep the house clean. I go to the market like Katniss used to, and I trade with Peeta's father, who still runs the bakery even though his son's a victor now.

One time I even try going hunting in the woods with Gale, but he's moody and unhelpful. There's a part of the woods he's really protective of – he won't let me go there. I don't think I'd like killing and skinning animals anyway.

I do forage though – I find a lot of plants I can use for medicine and a lot of edible plants that I can share with Gale and his family.

Every day I wake up and hope fate will bring me good news.

**Author's Note**

I decided to put all the alternate viewpoints in one chapter instead of doing a lot of little short side chapters. Because wouldn't that be annoying *shifty eyes*


	51. Chapter 41: Homecoming (Peeta)

Chapter 41

Homecoming

Peeta

"Of course … we have to discuss the unfortunate turn of events at the end of the Games," Caesar says. Only unfortunate for Spruce and Clint, I think to myself. But I remember what Haymitch said – I have to let them make me their poster boy.

"I … I just can't believe Katniss is gone," I say. "We were so close to … To getting to have a life together. It's … not fair at all." I burst into very realistic tears – I do worry about her, if she was in the hovercraft that was shot down for sure. I worry about Spruce and Clint – I know they're being tortured, probably as we speak. I worry about the others – I wonder how many were in the hovercraft that was shot down. Caesar pats my back, and I gather myself and manage to go on with the interview.

I'm crowned victor, and it's all I can do to hide my hatred of the Capitol as I am. They brought us here … forced us to fight, and then dangled hope in front of all of us just to get a good show. But I manage to smile and be gracious, hating myself for doing it, as President Snow lays a beautiful golden crown on my head.

I'm numb as I step off the train. My parents and brothers greet me, and I'm glad to see them.

But it's not right.

Haymitch does his best to steady me as I step off the train. Katniss's sister runs to greet me – she tells me she's happy I'm alive and thanks me for helping her sister. She's so sweet, and that's a very nice thing to say – but it's a dagger in my heart and I have to bite back tears.

Her friend Gale sees me too. We share a long, deep look – and then he hugs me. We understand one another, I think. Or at least, we understand one another's loss.

I'm alone in my room in the huge house in victor's village. I'm Haymitch's only neighbor. Yay, I guess.

Lightning flashes outside. I watch the rain, still numb from everything that's happened.

Two ravens fly by my window. I wonder if that's an omen or something.

Some lightning strikes very close to my house, so close the thunder rattles my windows.

Finally, I manage to sleep. I have weird dreams.

In the dreams, a motherly but absolutely beautiful woman with long blond hair is trying to tell me something, and I try very hard to understand what she's saying but I can't quite hold onto it. Something about a rainbow bridge and hammers.

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Note**

You're probably saying to yourself, bull roar! You can't set up all that stuff and bring in rebels at the very end!

Well, the story is continued. I've started posting it here on , but it's already posted (complete with some possible typos) on deviant. art/Fire-and-Lightning-Chapter-1-386998600


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